


What if...

by ShinMeiko



Series: What if multiverse [1]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli, Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe, Identity Reveal, Jacques meet Blue, M/M, POV Bram Greenfeld, POV Simon, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 211,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinMeiko/pseuds/ShinMeiko
Summary: A series of one-shots based on the concept: 'How would Jacques and Blue have met if...'





	1. What if Simon sent a different email?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So English is not my first language AND I learned British English. I tried my best, but there might still be some odd spellings in there.  
> Also, it is my first fic, but I got really inspired when I read the book.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is still grounded and cannot go to the carnival. But he needs to let Blue know how he feels. Because it might be his last chance.

 

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no, you can’t go to the carnival.”

“But Mom, everyone is going. It will just be for two hours. There is someone I… Please.”

“Simon, you are still grounded. If you wanted to be free to go have fun with your friends, you should have shown us that we can trust you to behave responsibly and make smart decisions. Not get drunk at a gay bar.”

“It was a restaurant.”

“Right. Because the point is completely about the type of place, and not at all about the underage drinking.” She looks at me, and she seems to soften a bit. Not enough to let me go, I’m sure. “Simon, we gave you back your screen privileges. One step at a time. I’m sorry you’re missing the carnival, but there will be other ones.”

I just nod and leave the living room, because there isn’t any point in arguing further. I am not that whiny, and she won’t change her mind.

I am not _that_ disappointed about the carnival. It’s just that I had this plan to fight for Blue one last time. To tell him how I feel, and to tell him to come and meet me there. I guess my romantic gesture isn’t on the table anymore. How can I show Blue how much he means to me if I can’t see him?

I need him to understand how much he means to me. That whenever I get an email from him my heart skips a beat. That I flirt with him not by game but by necessity, because he’s under my skin at all times.

So here I am, sitting in front of my computer, pouring my heart out like never before. It’s terrifying, because not only can it mean that I will lose Blue forever (not that it matters that much anyway, he is barely replying to my emails as it is), but also because even though I still have no clue who he is, he knows who I am. I feel like I am laying myself bare for him to weigh whether I am worth it or not, and to then have _someone_ in school holding that knowledge, maybe without me ever knowing who.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 25 at 10.31 AM

SUBJECT: Us

Blue,

This is probably the hardest email I ever wrote to you. And I have this awful feeling that if I can’t make it perfect, it might be our last one. That it is my last chance to get through to you how I feel, what I want and what I need before I lose you forever.

Since I’ve been outed, I feel like my life is getting slightly too much, and it is making me do stupid things, make stupid decisions, and say stupid stuff… And I could handle all of that if only I had you. I don’t mean meeting you – even though that would be the dream – I just mean having you back as someone to talk to. As I told you, you are kind of my best friend in a lot of ways, and I need you.

But you have barely been returning my emails lately. And I can only picture three reasons why you would do such a thing.

  1. Now that you know who I am, you don’t want to be with me, because you don’t find me attractive. That’s fine. I understand that. As much as I like you, and want to be with you, I am fine with staying online friends if that’s what you want. We could talk about everything, you were my safe place, and I would like to get that back. It really doesn’t have to be romantic if that’s not what you want. You should know by now that I would never make you do something you don’t want to do.
  2. For some reason, you are done with… this… whatever you want to call what we have. Then, I need you to tell me. Stop half emailing back, stop leaving gifts at my locker as I am trying to get used to your absence, and just call the whole thing off. I’ll get over it. But I can only get over it if I know it’s over. If you don’t want this to continue, please, you have to let me go.
  3. I hurt you when I guessed wrong. If that’s your reason, then I think I owe you an apology. Not so much for guessing wrong – I think we both knew this could happen. I need to apologize for you thinking that me thinking you were someone else would matter. That it would somehow impact how I feel about you. Because here is the thing: even though I seem to have been shitty at showing it to you in our emails, it’s you. The one I want. It’s you and no one else.



I guess that I have been desperate to find you, and I have used what my dad calls ‘Simon logic’ – which means being a freaking idiot – to find you in any boy who seemed to have an interest in me. And I happen to have shared a moment with Cal Price and my fairy-tale brain apparently thought that it meant he had to be you.

I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Cal Price came out. He asked me out. In all honesty, I didn’t answer. Which doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to. Because he is not you. He lost all his appeal as soon as he wasn’t you.

Please, just believe that even if you don’t want me, it’s still not something I’m going to pursue. I understand if you were hurt by me thinking you were him, but you have to understand that I was interested in him because he might have been you, and not the other way around.

But as I am being honest with you, I guess there is something else I should mention. Someone else. There is this boy who is in my circle of friends. Sort of. We have lunch together. And we definitely did not share a moment. But I always feel so self-conscious when he looks at me, and I feel guilty when I talk to him, because it pulls something in my stomach, and it feels like cheating on you. Because it doesn’t matter that Bram Greenfeld has the softest eyes, the greatest soccer calves, that I have this theory that he is so funny even though he barely talks to me, that I felt warm inside when he sat next to me at lunch that day I got outed as if everything was still the same, that I feel it whenever he looks at me (even though he is probably looking at my friend Leah. I think there is something there).

It doesn’t matter, because Bram isn’t you. And whenever I am with him, the thought of you is there too, and it’s stronger. I know that when I meet you, no matter who you are, or what you look like, it will make all the other boys disappear.

As good as it feels to share a moment with someone who wants me, or to feel butterflies in my stomach whenever a cute boy with the nicest eyes looks at me, it all vanishes when I think about you.

It would take a thousand Cals to make a Bram, and a thousand more Brams to make a you.

Because I know you. You’re smart, and careful, and weird, and funny. And you notice things and you listen to things, but not in a nosy way. In a real way. You overthink things and remember details and you always, always say the right thing.

And I think I like that we got to know each other from the inside out.

Obviously, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I don’t know if it’s possible to fall in love over email. But I would really like to meet you. I want to try this. And I can’t imagine a scenario where I won’t want to kiss your face off as soon as I see you.

I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting. One word from you and I’m yours. Online or in life.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

As soon as I click ‘send’, I regret it. It’s too much. It will scare Blue away. And at the same time, it’s not enough. It’s not literate enough.

And why, _why_ , did I feel the need to mention Cal and Bram? Stupid Cal and his stupid bangs, and stupid Bram with his stupid calves.

So, I guess now I can only wait.

Thank God for the play today, otherwise, I wouldn’t have anything to do but stress about this, and I sort of can already feel an ulcer starting in my stomach.

 

I don’t know how I make it through the performance. I honestly don’t remember half of it.

 

When I get back home, I feel empty. Not only was that the last performance, so no more play or play practice until next year, and it feels like losing a small family, but most importantly, Blue didn’t reply to my email.

I know I should have seen it coming, that it was a long shot and that the email was probably not what it should have been, but… it still feels like heartbreak and rejection.

My parents pick on my weird mood, but they probably think that I’m tired, or upset about the carnival, because they don’t ask about it. I would rather them think that I am a moody teenager than having to lie about all of this. I really don’t feel like lying about Blue right now. I think that if my mom asked the right questions, I would cry.

I stay in front of the TV long enough to feel like I did my part for Family Night, then tell everyone that I’m tired and want to go to bed.

I am about to go back to my room when someone knocks on the door. My dad opens the door as I start climbing the stairs.

“Hello”, I hear my dad say.

“Hello, Mr. Spier. I am a friend of Simon’s and I was wondering if I could talk to him.”

I freeze in the stairs. I know that voice. What is Bram Greenfeld doing at my house? I step back downstairs, but my dad is not inviting Bram in. My mother is now by the door as well and I am getting mortified. I wish my parents wouldn’t be involved in my first interaction out of school with Cute Bram Greenfeld.

“I am sorry young man, but Simon is currently grounded. What is this regarding?”

“I came to tell him that I’m in love with him.”

My house has never been this quiet before. My dad seems to have lost all ability to speak or move, my mother’s eyes are simply widening, my sister’s mouth gently fall open, and even Bieber is sitting silently, looking at us as if he wanted to understand why we are all acting so weird.

As for me… I don’t think I have ever been so shocked in my life. Even though we have never talked that much, I know Bram. He wouldn’t do this as a prank. His words just knocked all the air out of me, as if he had punched me in the stomach. Cute Bram Greenfeld, who I was sure was so into Leah, just said he loved me. LOVE. He said _love_! And Bram, who never speaks more than he has to, who blushes whenever a teacher asks him a question, just admitted that in the calmest possible way in front of my entire family.

I know I should say or do something before my parents actually can, but I can’t. Because Cute Bram Greenfeld stopped looking at my dad and has now locked his gaze with mine. His soft, warm, brown eyes don’t leave mine and I can’t look away, nor think. For a moment, everything seems to disappear around me. My family, my house… everything but those brown eyes that are looking at me as if they were seeing me, all of me. For the briefest moment, even Blue fades away.

That’s when I snap out of it. Because I am still fighting for Blue. Because I didn’t send that email just to then tell him that Cute Bram Greenfeld is enough after all.

I look at my mom and it sort of feels like we are having a silent conversation, except I have no idea what either of us is saying. Finally, she says, “I guess it is a one of a kind situation. We will give you ten minutes.”

“We are?” my dad asks.

“We are.” She looks back at me. “Ten minutes. Door cracked open.”

Yeah. Because we are definitely going to go have a quickie during those ten minutes you granted us, Mom. But there is no way I’m saying that to her, ever, and especially not now.

I blurt out a ‘Thank you’ and then Bram and I go to my room. In the stairs, he looks quickly at the pictures. Nora’s trash can costume, me and the fish… He doesn’t comment, but he as a soft smile on his face when he sees them, that doesn’t really fit with how people usually react when looking at those for the first time.

Bram stops in the middle of my room and looks around. He seems to want to memorize every single detail. Somehow, that intimidates me. Thank God my room is tidy (the perks of being grounded – nothing better to do), but I feel like my room is too geeky for Soccer Bram, and yet doesn’t have enough books for Perfect English Score Bram.

“I’m sorry for invading like this,” Bram says. His voice is low and slightly shaky. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m sort of improvising, and I had this burst of courage and confidence…”

He still isn’t looking at me. After our staring contest downstairs, I find strange that now he would be so shy again. But it helps, actually. Not only does it seem more like the Bram I know, but it also helps me think more clearly.

“Bram,” I interrupt him, “I’m not sure where this is coming from, and, trust me, if the circumstances were even slightly different, I think I could die of happiness right now, but… I sort of already have a boyfriend?”

The last reaction I could have predicted would be that frank, open, happy smile spreading on Bram’s face. I always knew that I am clueless about what is happening inside his head, but it was never as obvious as right now. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, before moving back to the posters on my walls.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t the answer you wanted,” I continue. “Trust me, it kills me to have to do this. I can’t even imagine how much nerve you must have gathered to be able to do this…”

And I can’t finish that sentence. Because this is it. Bram is doing this incredible thing for me, and it confronts me to the fact that Blue didn’t fight for me. He didn’t have the courage to even meet me half way. And it makes me wonder if, maybe, it is because he never wanted to.

“I guess anyone would feel brave after reading a heartfelt love letter,” Bram replies. “So two…”

Two love letters? What is he talking ab… Oh. _Oh_.

“Blue?”

Bram is still not looking at me, but he nods. Blue is there. Fighting for me. I don’t even feel like I moved, but I must have, because suddenly, I am right next to him and I am asking him to look at me.

He looks at me, and it doesn’t matter how overwhelmed I felt when we stared at each other downstairs because it was _nothing_ compared to how it makes me feel now.

I’m shaking and so is he. I rub my thumbs softly on his cheeks and he smiles even softer. “I love you too,” I whisper.

And his lips are on mine.

It is not my first kiss, and yet it is. I’m nervous, I’m happy, I’m hot, I’m shivering, I can’t think about anything other than Bram’s lips.

“So, I guess it was my mistake and you’re not into Leah,” I say when he pulls away. He chuckles and something twists inside of me.

“Oh no, I am. But she rejected me, so I decided to go for second best.” I laugh, but it dies out as soon as my eyes are on his lips again.

“We should talk about this,” I say. We probably have less than five minutes before my parents come to tell him to leave.

“Tomorrow,” Bram whispers. “We’ll talk tomorrow…” And he kisses me again. I don’t argue. Why would I want to use my lips for anything else?

 

 


	2. What if Simon drank too much at a party?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick throws a party and Garrett drags Bram with him.  
> Bram finds a really drunk Simon, who can't stop talking about Blue.

**Part 1 – Bram**

 

Bram was completely out of his comfort zone. It was the last weekend before going back to school, and Nick had decided to celebrate by hosting ‘the best party ever seen’. And Garrett had managed to drag Bram with him.

Bram didn’t drink, ever, and he felt like an outsider in the middle of his classmates getting more and more drunk. There were two other people who weren’t drinking. A girl from Bram’s history class that he had never talked to, and a ginger boy that he had never seen before. They looked miserable about it and were complaining about being designated drivers. Bram didn’t want to have to explain that he wasn’t drinking by choice, so he left the conversation.

Garrett had disappeared half an hour before with a girl – that was not Leah Burke, so that was going to be a whole other thing in the morning – and Bram was contemplating just leaving. Garrett would probably crash here for the night anyway.

Just as he was making his way out, he bumped into someone. Both of them started apologizing, until they locked eyes. Damn. Bram would never be ready for those eyes. He used to compare them to the moon, but they were much more mesmerizing. Even now, in a dark hallway and glazed by the alcohol. Those eyes who belonged to a very drunk Simon Spier.

“No problem,” Bram said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… need some air.”

“Okay. Come with me.”

Bram helped Simon to the garden and had him sit down on the grass.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Bram didn’t really want to leave the party anymore, and he sat next to Simon.

“How much did you drink?”

“Like three beers, and one thing that didn’t taste like alcohol, but I think that might have been deceiving.”

Bram smiled. “Not a big drinker, are you?”

Simon shook his head. “I thought it would make me forget. But it didn’t work.”

“Forget what?”

“Blue.”

It was like some iced water ran through Bram’s body. Why was Simon trying to forget about Blue? And was he really talking that freely about him?

“Blue?”

Simon leaned in closer and whispered in Bram’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “No one knows about Blue. But you, Bram, you are always quiet, even though your eyes show that there is so much happening in your head. I know you will be able to keep my secret.”

It is nice to know that Simon has been thinking about him enough to develop theories about him. Simon looked at Bram, expectantly and Bram wasn’t sure why.

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Will you keep my secret.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

Simon relaxes and lies down in the grass. “Blue is perfect.”

For anyone else, this conversation wouldn’t make any sense. “So why do you want to forget about him?”

“Because he doesn’t want me.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“He doesn’t want to meet me. He doesn’t want to tell me his name. He won’t even give me his phone number.”

“Simon…”

But Simon sat up straight.

“I promised him I wouldn’t call. Just text. And I really wouldn’t. you believe me, right?” There was something in Simon’s eyes. Some urgency, a need for Bram to say yes.

“I believe you.”

Simon lied back down. “Well Blue doesn’t.”

“Maybe he’s afraid.”

“Of what? Me? Nobody has ever been afraid of me.”

“Maybe he finds you intimidating. It’s different to talk to someone online under the cover of anonymity and putting your heart on the line in the real world. Have you ever read a YouTube comment section? Half of those people would never say those things in real life.”

Simon snorted quite rudely. “If he thought I was worth it… He wouldn’t leave me out there all alone.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s so lonely. Being the only kid out in school. It feels like me versus the world. My friends are trying, but they don’t get it. They don’t understand. They don’t… _know_. But Blue knows. I don’t want him to come out if he’s not ready, I just… want him to be there. With me. To be this real presence in my life. You know?”

And the same urgency as before appeared in Simon’s eyes. “Yeah, I know,” Bram answered. And he did. For all the challenging moments, he had Jacques and his emails, and it was enough, and it never occurred to him that maybe, Simon needed more from Blue.

“He keeps saying that he’s afraid he’ll lose me. But I know we’ll be even greater in person. I think… I think we’ll lose each other if we stay online. I think we reached the limit of what emails can do, now. He feels like my best friend in a lot of ways, but he’s not if I can’t talk to him about the little things. Like a joke Nick made. Or the ugly skirt my French teacher was wearing yesterday.” Simon giggled for a minute. “It was a very ugly skirt.”

Bram looked at the boy next to him and he ached to touch him. Just running his fingers through his hair. Along his jaw line.

“You built an image of Blue in your head. What if who he is disappoints you?”

Simon kept looking at the sky in silence for a long time. Bram was about to change the subject when Simon answered. “How could he ever disappoint me? I fall for him whenever I read any of his emails. He always listens like he’s interested and not nosy. He is careful with every word he uses. I don’t know if he’s always like that or if it’s because I’m special to him, but either way that makes me want to kiss him. He is funny. A smart kind of funny. He knows how to make me feel better… Well… Not now, obviously.”

Bram lied next to Simon to keep himself from pulling him in his arms instead. There was something so charming in a drunk Simon pouring his heart out as well as something so heart-breaking about what he was saying.

“I really don’t care who he is. I just care that he’s a real person that exists. I mean, I would be upset if he were one of those bullies… It would be complicated to see Blue through that, but… and Nick. It would be so weird if it were Nick. I mean, it’s very obvious that Blue isn’t Nick, but that would still sort of be a deal breaker. Or a girl. That would be worse than the end of the world. Or can you imagine if Blue was a joke? I think I would die if Blue was a prank.”

“Blue is not a prank.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because… just trust me on that.”

Simon shrugged and his dazed brain seemed to admit that as a valid argument. “But you know what, any one else and I’ll be over the moon. Like, you know that boy, Stan? The one in senior year?”

Bram knew exactly who Simon was referring to. Stan had really bad acne, terrible teeth, a sickly tone and an asymmetrical face. He was sort of known for being the ugliest kid in school.

“The one who isn’t that pretty.” Simon continued, and Bram loved Simon a little bit more for presenting it in the least cruel way. “Well if he were Blue, if would so make out with him. Like… a lot. Even though right now… I don’t really want to. I mean he’s probably nice, but he’s no Harry Potter, you know.”

Bram was convinced that the only reason he could follow this conversation was thanks to their emails. “Simon… I’m sure Blue isn’t a bully, or a prank, or… not pretty… I guess… but he’s probably not Harry Potter either.” Bram looked nothing like Daniel Radcliffe. Stan’s skin complexion was closer to Simon’s fantasy than Bram’s.

Simon looked at Bram. “I know. Then again, maybe I’ll be lucky. Maybe he’ll be totally hot. Not that he would want me if he were.”

“Why not? You’re insanely cute.” Bram couldn’t believe he said that, but Simon didn’t react in any way, still lost in his divagations about Blue.

“If I were super lucky, you would be Blue.” Okay. So. Clearly the drinking annihilated every sort of barriers in Simon’s mind.

“I’m sorry, what.”

“I mean. I know you’re not gay, so I’m not hitting on you, and I’m sorry if it’s weird, but… You’re cute, you’re hot, you’re smart, you’re letting me drunk ramble about a random guy, you’re athletic, you’re nerdy, you totally didn’t freak out when I was outed. You’re perfect. I mean… you’re second perfect to Blue, but still. Can you imagine? How amazing it would be if you were Blue?”

“Yes. I think I can.” And for the first time, Bram could actually see it. How great it would be. Being out there wouldn’t be so bad if it were with Simon. Simon who just – even though drunkenly – told him that he would be perfectly fine with Blue being him. Bram could cry. He had never been so happy and relieved. But was now a good time to tell Simon? When he was drunk? Bram didn’t want their reunion to be a foggy memory in Simon’s mind.

Bram shifted to look at Simon. He was so beautiful, lying there half in the semi-obscurity. He was so close. Bram could just reach and take his hand. The garden was empty, and the party was still raging. No one would notice. And what if they did?

Simon’s breath started to slow a little bit. “Simon?”

“What?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“I dunno. It’s comfy.”

“It’s not going to feel that way in the morning.”

“I was supposed to stay at Abby’s, but she disappeared with Nick. I don’t think it’s a good sign for me.”

“Yeah probably not. I can take you to your house.”

“Bram… I thought you were smart. I can’t go home… _like this_.”

“Fair point. But still, no sleeping on the grass. Come on.”

Bram stood up and extended his hand to help Simon up. The later seemed to consider just staying there for a minute, but grabbed Bram’s hand and just followed him.

 

Bram knew it was a bad idea as soon as he offered it, but they were here now, and it was too late to back out.

“Are you sure your parents will be fine with this?”

Simon asked, coming back in Bram’s bedroom, wearing the pajama he prepared for him.

“It’s just my mother and me. She’s in Atlanta for the weekend. It’s cool. So… You can take my bed; I’ll just sleep on the coach. I’ll get you some water. I think you’ll need it.”

Bram was quite surprised to find Simon still awake when he returned with a bottle of water.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Bram shivered at Simon’s drunk bluntness.

‘ _Because I love you_ ’. Okay, maybe not. Instead, he went for: “It’s no big deal.”

But tears suddenly appeared in Simon’s eyes. “How come that we barely even talk, and yet you’re so nice to me, but Blue won’t even…”

Simon’s voiced died in his throat and Bram came to sit next to him. “Simon…” The boy burst into tears, and Bram held him tight. Simon jest let go and started crying in Bram’s arms. Somehow, they ended up spooning, Bram running his fingers in Simon’s hair, whispering him to let go, that things would be better in the morning, and listening to Simon calming down and drifting into sleep.

Bram kept holding on to Simon, until he fell asleep as well.

 

 

**Part 2 – Simon**

 

Simon woke up to a strange mix of headache, happiness, and the annoying feeling of having forgotten something crucial.

Maybe if he thought hard enough… Where was he last night? Nick’s party. He could remember going to Nick’s party. And looking for Blue in the crowd. Not finding him. Drinking. And after that? He knew something else happened after that, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Simon wanted to groan, but his mouth was too dry, even for that.

He completely froze as he felt someone shift behind him, and an arm wrap around him. He kept his body completely still and refused to open his eyes.

It was definitely a boy.

Part of him was terrified, but somehow, part of him was incredibly happy. As if he did belong in those mysterious arms he couldn’t remember. Simon knew he could just turn around and _know_ who was there. But he didn’t want to. If it _felt so right_ , then surely, he could remember.

The boy behind him shifted closer, and Simon felt like he could stay like this forever. He had to know. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was an unknown bedroom. That made him panic a little bit. Did he just follow a random boy home?

Simon looked down on the arm around him, and his heart started to beat slightly faster. He was certain there had been only one boy at Nick’s party with such a gorgeous brown complexion.

He felt Bram’s breath on his neck and his entire body shivered. He wanted to turn back and look at him, but he didn’t dare.

Bram shifted again in his sleep and ended up holding Simon even closer. How did he end up in a bed with Cute Bram?

That’s when he remembered. Rambling about Blue, nearly falling asleep in Nick’s garden, Bram offering him a lift back, Simon refusing to go home, Bram offering him to spend the night over and, finally, crying on Bram’s shoulder.

Oh, God! Did Bram even _want_ to be there? And what about Blue?

Simon sprung out of the bed like he couldn’t get away quick enough, waking up Bram in the process. Bram looked confused, still half-asleep, and… hurt?

“Simon? Is everything fine?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

His voice was hoarse, and Bram pointed to the bottle of water, which Simon grabbed, grateful. Bram was definitively a morning person, because his eyes were now alert and he just looked confused.

“Bram, I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“Telling you all this stuff yesterday. Making you take care of me. I’m pretty sure I also sort of came on to you at some point. And then the crying, and making you sleep with me. Well… not _sleep_ with me, but… sleep with me.”

A small smile appeared on Bram’s face as if he was very amused by Simon’s rambling.

“It’s fine. I sort of enjoyed the entire thing. I mean… maybe not the crying, but I was happy to be there for you. And as for you calling me hot, I don’t think it’s ever a bad thing to get an ego boost from someone. And regarding the sleeping arrangements… I could have left you after you fell asleep. I just… didn’t.”

Simon’s breath caught in his throat. Was saying what Simon thought he was saying? “Bram… are you gay?”

Bram looked at him for a solid minute before answering. “Yes, I am.” _Oh_.

“Bram… I’m sorry if I mislead you, but I’m sort of already taken, and…” But then Simon lost his train of thought for a minute. Bram had sat up straight. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and he has six very convincing arguments.

“I know.” Bram said.

“I remember telling you about Blue. And I shouldn’t have done that, it was stupid, and it was private, and…”

“Simon, it’s fine.”

“It’s not though. It wasn’t fair to you, and it definitely wasn’t fair to him.”

“Simon, you’re not hearing me. It’s fine. It’s more than fine, actually. I needed to hear you say those things. To not be scared anymore. To realize how much I was hurting you.”

“Bram… are you saying…”

“I should have told you yesterday. But I didn’t know how much you would remember, and then you started crying, and we sort of fell asleep.”

The two boys stared at each other. Bram looked a bit nervous, as if he wasn’t sure if Simon would be upset about any of that. Maybe he should be, but Simon was simply amazed. Blue was there. Finally.

He walked back towards the bed and looked at Bram. Really looked at him. Probably for the first time. He knew Bram was cute, and hot, but he never really paid attention at how beautiful he was too. His long eyelashes, his freckles, the shape of his jawline… He reached his face with his fingers, drawing all the lines of his features.

Bram relaxed and grabbed Simon’s other hand with his own, pulling him back in the bed. Simon let him and the two boys lied down, facing each other, a foot or so apart.

For a while, they simply looked at each other in silence, smiling. Then Simon reached over again, touching Bram’s hand, arm, shoulder… He let his hand slide on the soccer player’s torso, and he drew the shadow of all his perfectly shaped muscles with his fingers. The moment could have been hot, but it wasn’t. It was sweet. They were discovering each other, taking time to reconcile the mental image of Blue and Jacques with the reality of Bram and Simon.

Bram pulled on Simon’s shirt to do the same and all of Simon’s insecurities vanished when he saw the way the brown eyed boy was looking at him.

Bram scooted closer, looking down at Simon’s lips, a gentle question in his eyes. As if Simon would ever say no to that. He closed the gap between them, and for the briefest moment, he put his lips on the other boy’s. It wasn’t even a kiss, they barely touched. It was gentle and tentative.

Bram’s hands moved up to Simon’s hair and he kissed him again, for real this time. It was slow and gentle and as sweet as he could have dreamt it to be.

After a few minutes, Simon could feel things shift a little bit. His body, especially the south part, started reacting to Bram’s presence. The kiss was less soft and messier. Their hands grabbed more than they touched.

It was both thrilling and terrifying. Well… maybe slightly more terrifying. Simon wanted this so badly, maybe just not right now.

“Bram, I think we should…”

“Slow down?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I…”

“No, trust me, we’re on the same page.”

They both smiled at each other and left the bed, awkwardly avoiding eye contact for a few seconds.

“We just keep doing everything backwards, don’t we?” Bram asked.

Simon smiled. “Maybe it’s our thing. Refusing to follow patterns.”

Bram smiled back. “I like that. It sounds like us. So… breakfast?”

“Oh, God, yes please. I’m starving.”

“Come on. Maybe then we’ll be able to do more talking, and less touching.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”


	3. What if Bram had to face his worst nightmare?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is one thing Bram would fear more than Simon knowing his is Blue.

My head hurts. My stomach hurts. My leg hurts. My shoulder hurts. Why does everything hurt? And why am I so thirsty?

“Simon?” My arm hurts as well now, but it’s because someone is squeezing it. I open my eyes and see my mum standing next to me, eyes red and puffy.

I panic for a few seconds, because something terrible had to happen for her to look like this. But then my surroundings appear clearly to me and I get both confused and terrified. Because whatever happened to me.

I am lying in a hospital bed. My parents are both there, but also Nora and Alice. When did Alice come back from college?

“Mum?”

Suddenly, everyone is grabbing me, hugging me, crying, talking… and none of it helps me understand what I’m doing here.

“Okay, let him breathe” my mum orders. My family sits back down, but my dad stands back up straight away and leaves the room. Probably to get a doctor. “How are you feeling, Si?”

“What happened?” I ask.

“You don’t remember?”

I shake my head.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

I think for a minute. I remember the play in front of the rest of the school and how someone changed my name on the cast list. And then… I’m not quite sure. Abby took me out. To a gay bar. Oh God, what happened? Did I drink so much that I passed out? Probably not. My mum would be pissed, not sad.

“I was at a restaurant with Nick and Abby” I say.

Alice grins at me.

“Yeah. Let’s call it a restaurant.” She is trying to joke, but I can hear that she is worried. “Do you remember what happened when you left that place, Bub?”

I think about it and I vaguely remember a college guy hitting on me, and Nick coming to get me before the college guy could buy me a drink. So, if I didn’t drink, why does my head hurt that bad?

I touch my face and I can feel that part of it is swollen. And just like that, I remember. I left the restaurant first to get the car and leave a minute of privacy to Nick and Abby who were sort of undressing each other with their eyes.

As I was walking towards where Abby had parked her car, a couple of drunk guys started calling me names and commenting on my ‘immoral life choices’. They used worst words. I remember feeling terrified as they started to follow me, rough me up, and then properly beat me up. The whole thing is a bit blurry, but this is what I now remember perfectly: the fear.

I feel my mum hand running through my hair as I start to tear up, and she holds me tight as I properly start sobbing.

 

The doctor explains to me that I was lucky. Yeah, he actually uses that exact word. The ER doctors were concerned because of swelling around my brain, so they induced coma. I slept for nearly forty hours. It’s freaking Sunday afternoon. I missed a whole day of y life. But apparently, they consider that waking up quickly. Other than that, I am badly bruised, but no internal injuries and nothing broken.

They will keep me here for at least a few more days, because they want to monitor that swelling in my brain, but he still calls it lucky.

I realize that I missed the play, and I wonder for a minute how it went. I also know that I won’t make it to the fair, the one I wanted to invite Blue to.

Blue. Blue who isn’t Cal Price. I don’t care. I know that it was just projection, because in this moment, I really don’t want to see Cal, but I want to talk to Blue so badly, right now. I want him to be there, but I’ll settle for an email. He has been very distant lately, but I know he would reach out after this. Because it’s Blue, because he’s perfect, because he always there when I need him, because he always knows what to say. Except when I guess wrong and he disappears on me.

Are Blue and Jacques even still a thing?

It’s hard to be hopeful today.

 

I know I slept for an entire weekend, but when the doctor leaves, I am suddenly so tired again. Not just in my body, but in my mind as well.

I don’t understand why some people are full of hate like this. What did I even do to them? Why me? Just… why?

“Who did this to me?” I ask, the words half chocking in my throat.

“Two college students from Atlanta, my dad answers.” There is an anger in his voice that I have never heard before. “They were under the influence. Some people ran out of that restaurant to come and help you. That friend of yours, Abby, called an ambulance, and Nick called us. I… I’m so sorry that happened to you, Si… I… You’re safe, now, son…”

I don’t think my dad knows where he’s going with this. I think he just wants to reassure me, but he ends up bursting into tears himself. I feel now more than ever since my coming out, how much my dad loves me.

We talk a little bit about the attack. The men were arrested and my parents already pressed charges. This might go to court.

Nora seems to feel it when I get tired of it all, because she is the one who changes the subject. And after that, we just talk about anything but that. It feels forced and fake, but we still do it because it’s what I need. I need time to process before I can talk about it. I am so grateful that my mum doesn’t go full shrink mode on me and just follows my sister’s lead.

 

After a couple of hours, my dad decides to take Nora home. It’s been a long day, after a long weekend, and my parents still want her to go to school tomorrow.

My mum and Alice will stay until the end of visiting hours, but my mum decides to go get coffee. I think she wants to give me some time with Alice, given that she came back in a hurry just for me.

At first, because of the circumstances, it is a bit awkward, but she very quickly goes back to her usual self. As she doesn’t want to ask any question that might upset me, she starts by talking about herself. She tells me about college, and Theo, and that girl she met via her study group and which sound like so much fun.

“So…” Alice gives me one of her nosy-big-sister kind of look, and I have no idea where it comes from. “Who is that Bram kid?”

I grow even more confused. Bram? Why is she talking about Bram? “He’s in Nick’s soccer team.”

Alice raises an eyebrow. She only raises one when she knows I am holding something back and wants me to come clean. It usually works, because I can’t keep anything from her. But this time, I have no idea what she wants from me. I try anyway. “He usually sits at our lunch table.”

“He is kind of cute.”

I don’t understand why she won’t let go. I am literally on my death bed – okay, maybe not _literally_ – and there she is, asking questions about this random guy. I would have thought the recent events would have awaken her political side, or her protective one, not her gossipy one.

“I guess he is. How do you even know who Bram is?”

“Because he came to visit you.”

I am not particularly surprised that Bram would come to visit me. Him and Garrett probably came with Nick. I guess I would visit them too if they were in the hospital. “Mum and Dad didn’t tell me that Nick came by.”

“Because he didn’t. Well, he came when you got brought in, but the doctors said family only, so…”

This makes no sense. Why would Bram show up without Nick? We are definitely _not_ that close. Maybe he came with Leah? I know he likes her, and maybe something happened between them whilst I was here.

But that doesn’t make sense either. Because why would she have brought him? “Alice… When was Bram here?”

“The real question is ‘when wasn’t he here’. You sure chose a very dedicated boyfriend.”

“Bram’s not my boyfriend.”

This whole conversation is simply surreal. Surely, Alice is confusing Bram with someone else, although I’m not sure who.

It’s Alice’s turn to look confused. “Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I know my brain is only sort of working right now, but I’m also pretty sure I would remember dating a hot soccer player. Why would you think he’s my boyfriend?”

“Because of how he has been the last thirty-six hours. He showed us with your friends when you got brought in. The doctor said that they wouldn’t be able to see you and they left after Nora promised to call them with every update. Bram didn’t move, and when Nick asked him why he would stay, that other kid… Garrett… whispered something to the group and they left without Bram. I think we all assumed then that he was your boyfriend. Is he really not?”

I shake my head, because it’s true, but also because I try to make sense of it all. Alice seems to understand that, because she continues. “He looked crushed. As if he was living his own nightmare. Dad told him that he couldn’t see you, and that he should go home, to which Bram replied that he wanted to be here, even if he couldn’t see you. Mum talked to him a bit, but I don’t know what about. You, probably. Then Bram’s mom showed up and managed to get him to go to the cafeteria to eat something. After visiting hours, she basically had to drag him out. He only left when she said she would drive him back first thing in the morning. He spent his entire Saturday in the waiting room, completely silent, just starring. He only seemed to come back to life when any of us went to talk to him or when the doctors came with updates. He went more willingly yesterday, but he was here before me, this morning. Sitting in the same chair, staring at the same tile, looking just as worried. When the doctor told us that you woke up, I could see his entire body relax. Like a deflating balloon. He was so relieved he cried. I saw an actual tear. He knows that even though you’re awake, he’s still not allowed to see you, and yet he’s still here. And you’re telling me he’s not your boyfriend?”

I barely even hear her last question, because I am so focused on breathing. Because suddenly it all makes sense. There is one person in the world I would equally worry for. There is one person in the world I would expect to wait for me in a hospital even if he can’t see me. Because seeing each other has never been our thing.

“Alice, I need to see him. Now.”

“Have you not listened? The doctors said family only.”

“Alice, please. Find a way. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll do all your chores this summer. I’ll answer all your stupid questions. I’ll give up Oreos. I’ll…”

“Excuse-me?” Alice interrupts my ranting. “You’ll give up Oreos? Just to not wait another day?”

I nod, because I don’t think I can actually talk anymore. I know nothing else makes sense, but I can’t help but be terrified I’m wrong. The only thing I can think is _‘Please be Blue. Please be Blue. Please.’_

I can see on my sister’s face that she doesn’t really know what’s happening, but that she understands it’s important. She doesn’t object any more and she just leaves the room. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

When the door opens again, I know it’s Alice who comes back to tell me that either the doctors, or my parents said no. Or that Bram left. Or something.

But it’s not Alice.

It’s Bram.

The second our eyes lock seem to last forever. He looks terrified, devastated, relieved, happy, loving, shy and unsure, all at the same time. I probably look the same and more. This moment will stay in my mind forever. No matter how many concussions I’ll get in the future, I will never forget this instant. Because this is when I know for sure. This is the moment Jacques meets Blue.

Cute Bram Greenfeld, of the soft eyes and the soccer calves. How did I even get so lucky?

Bram walks slowly to me, and only stops when his thighs touch the bed. He is still looking at me, but he is still silent. I realise then that Bram and I never really talked. I just made a fool of myself twice. When I mentioned his soccer auditions, and when I told him to ask Leah out. What if we can’t communicate without a screen?

“It’s you!” I finally manage to say.

“It’s me.” His voice is warm and soft, but also a bit broken.

Finally. He is there. He is right there. I really, really want to touch him.

Bram seems to be reading my mind, because his hand slides on the cover, until it finds mine. Nothing else exists in the universe but where our skins touch.

I look down on our hands and see that his knuckles are bruised. “What happened there?”

Bram shrugs. “I might have punched a wall.”

“Why?”

“I think I went a little crazy. I was at home yesterday, and I was thinking about how everything could have been different. If I had been more courageous, if I told you who I was when I found out who are, or if I agreed to meet when you asked, then we would have been together on Friday, and none of this would have…”

“Bram…” I say just to stop him from spiraling. He is shaking a little bit and I am afraid he is going to start crying. I wouldn’t mind, but I am pretty sure that then I would cry too, and I really want this to be a happy moment. “You do know that none of this is your fault, right?”

Bram nods, but he is still not looking at me. I squeeze his hand gently. Enough for him to feel it, but not enough that it would hurt his bruised knuckles. He looks back at me and he still looks very anxious. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m so happy. You’re here. It’s you. I…” I stop talking, because Bram has this lopsided smile, and I feel like I’m making a fool of myself again.

“I’m happy you’re happy, but I meant your head.”

“Oh… Well I sort of feel like shit, but I think they gave me the good stuff because I only sort of feel it. Does that make sense?”

“Let’s say it does.” Bram keeps looking at me and his eyes go soft, and I feel this pulling under my stomach. “So… what were you saying about being happy?” His free hand lightly brushes my forearm, and I sort of hope he’ll never stop.

“I can’t believe you stayed after they said it was family only.”

“Of course I stayed. I couldn’t not be here. Even if I couldn’t see you, I had to be here when you woke up. For the news. Whichever they were going to be. Even if it was driving me crazy. But when your sister told me she would cover for me to see you, I knew I was right. I am so happy to see you. I am so happy you finally know it’s me.”

“If I had known being in the hospital was all it took to meet Blue, I would have arranged something weeks ago.”

Bram shyly smiles at that. The way he looks at me feels like too much. I don’t know if I want to hide, or if I want him to stare at me forever. “I really want to kiss you” Bram whispers.

“So do it”.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care.” And I truly don’t. I’d happily be beaten up again if it meant that it would finally, finally be happening. Blue. Bram. Perfect grammar and soccer calves. Funny spirit and quiet temper. Amazing mind and hot body. Again, how did I get so lucky?

I then stop thinking, because I can’t anymore. Bram is leaning towards the bed and his lips brush against mine. It’s so quick and soft that I could simply have dreamt it. But then his lips are back. And again. And again. It’s soft and lingering, and heaven. We still hold hands, but his other hand comes to gently cup my face. He is so careful, and I know I’m in love.

It kind of hurt, but it is so worth it. I could do this forever.

But the universe clearly has something else in mind, because the door opens and a nurse walks in. Bram and I both freeze, staring at her as she gives us The Look.

“I am pretty sure the doctor was clear. Family only.”

And I swear, the words leave my mouth before I can even think then through. My brain does everything it can to take them back but it’s too late. As if I hadn’t made a fool of myself by talking in front of Bram enough already. “He’s my brother.”

Bram stops looking at the nurse to look at me, confusion painted all over his face. Because, yeah, that was probably my dumbest line ever.

The nurse bursts into laughter. I think it’s as much my stupid answer as it is Bram’s face, but she doesn’t seem to be able to stop. After a solid minute, she wipes her eyes and say “Well, I’m here to remind your brother that, family or not, visitation ends in half an hour.”

“I’ll be gone” Bram promises.

“And I’ll check.” The nurse promises. “Because he needs to rest.”

Bram nods and the nurse leaves. As she shuts the door, I can hear her giggling again.

I try not to look at Bram because he has this mocking lopsided smile again. “I don’t thing I’ll ever be able to predict what comes out of your mouth!” he comments.

“I think I panicked.”

“I could tell.”

I slide on the bed to make some room and Bram doesn’t wait for me to say anything to come and lie next to me. Because I can barely move without feeling sore or in pain, I simply lie there as he cuddles me. We talk about everything. About being Blue and Jacques as well as Bram and Simon. About me being so oblivious and him being so scared I would be disappointed (which was the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, but I just introduced him as my brother, so I keep quiet). About my aggression and homophobia (and I was right: I did need to talk about it with Blue). About him coming out. About Elliott Smith. About Little Fetus. About Oreos.

Bram leaves a few minutes before then end of visiting hours to give my family time to come and say goodbye. They don’t ask about him even though I can see they are dying to, and I am grateful.

 

Monday morning, the doctors clear me for friends’ visits, and in the afternoon, straight after school, Nick, Leah and Abby come to visit me. I am happy to see that Garrett and Bram are with them. Bram and I lock eyes, and he smiles softly.

He told me last night that he was ready to come out to our friends, but I also know he probably hasn’t had time to do it, so I quickly focus on Leah who sits on my bed. The rest of them grabs chairs to sit around me. Bram however, sits in a corner of the room and gets a textbook out, probably catching up on the homework he didn’t do over the weekend? No one comments because it is a very Bram behavior. I am so in love right now.

“So, how long before you get out?” Nick asks me.

“Two more days.”

“Cool, you’ll still have time so spend time with Alice before she goes.” Leah says.

And I feel a bit guilty, because it’s not really Alice I am looking forward to spending time with. But there’s no way I’m saying that, so instead, I say “Please tell me that any of you brought Oreos.”

“I’ve got you covered” Nick says, looking extremely proud, as he gets out of his bag the most amazing collection of Oreo flavours I’ve ever seen. Best family, best friends, best boyfriend. That almost makes it up for living in a world where I can get beaten up just for being.

We all start comparing the different flavours and that’s when the nurse from yesterday comes in with some pills.

“Glad to see you’re following a strict healthy diet” she says as she gives me the pills and some water. “Oh, and your brother’s back!”

Bram’s lopsided smile comes back straight away. “What can I say? I am a true family man.”

“I’m sure you are, honey. Do you remember when visiting hours stop?”

“I do.” Bram answers. The nurse smiles at him and leaves the room. Garrett looks at Bram with a happy smile and looks like he’s trying really hard not to say something. The rest of our friends just look confused.

“Uhm… What was that?” Abby asks.

Bram and I lock eyes and smile. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. Leah’s mouth falls open in shock. “Is that why Bram stayed back on Friday?”

“Well, that’s what boyfriends do” he comments, and Abby never screamed this high before.

I know she’s going to thoroughly interrogate me later, but Garrett manages to smoothly change the subject, and everyone follows his lead.

When it’s time for them to go, I softly ask Bram “Do you want to come back tomorrow after school?”

“Try to stop me.”

And I can’t stop smiling. I know he’s going to be right by my side through all of this. And not just via emails. There is something incredibly comforting about it. When he looks at me, all the fear and anger that accumulated in me since the attack seem to blur and fade away.

If Bram loves me, then maybe the world isn’t that bad.

This boy just turned the worst time of my life into the best.


	4. What if Bram couldn’t wait for Simon to call him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram gave the shirt to Simon, but he hasn't called. Or texted. Or anything. Bram is about to lose it, so he asks Garrett for help.

“Yo! Bram! Are you there?”

Garrett is waving his hand a few inches from my face. We are in his basement, both a different homework in front of us, and it seemed like I phased out for a minute.

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing important, but you were miles away. What’s happening with you lately?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“That’s Bram for ‘there is definitely something going on, but I don’t want to talk about it.’ Come on, man. It’s me. Talk to me.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He knows me so well. There is something going on, and I don’t really want to talk about it. I feel like no one would understand, not even Garrett who has never been anything but supportive, and I don’t want to burden him.

But then, he shows me again how well he knows me. “Is it about Spier?” I don’t answer. “So, it is about Spier. Talk to me, man.”

“I got him a T-shirt.”

“Okay. Good for you, I guess? So, what? Is he not wearing it?”

“That’s not the problem. There was a note with the shirt. I told him that I want him, and I gave him my phone number.”

“He hasn’t reached out, has he?”

“No. For weeks, he’s been asking for my number. I thought… I thought that if I gave him a thoughtful gift wit… a love note, I guess, and my number, then something magical would happen. That he would reach out, and I wouldn’t be scared anymore. He would work his way up to ring me, and I would be brave enough to pick up, and he would know, and…”

Garrett is silent, but he is looking at me. Seriously, like he gets how important this is to me. Like he wants to say the right thing.

“He might have a reason,” he finally says.

“I know. I have been so close to just go up to him and simply ask him why he hasn’t called. But am I not just trying to see the obvious reason?”

“What do you mean?”

“He stopped messaging me just when Abby mentioned Cal Price asking him out.”

My voice dies in my throat, and he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Bram… I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. You know I love you, right? But you’re being a complete idiot. This thing between you and Spier… it’s only complicated because you make it this way.”

“It’s not…”

“Just listen,” he interrupts me. “Since you came out to me, I tried to see things through your eyes. I understand that coming out in High School in Georgia is hard. We saw it with Simon. And even when you told me about your penfriend, and even when we found out it’s Simon… I’ve let you deal with it the way you wanted to. But now… you can’t do things halfway anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cal Price has nothing on you. Except for one thing: he wants Simon.”

“I want Simon too.”

“Not like Cal does. Cal wants… Simon to hang out with him. Be his boyfriend, maybe? I don’t know. I have never talked to the kid, and I don’t listen to Abby’s gossips, because she tends to bend the reality to fit what she would like it to be. And yet… I don’t know why Simon hasn’t called you. Maybe he hasn’t found the note. But maybe he’s moving on. And if he is, do you really want to stop him?”

My heart races suddenly. Of course I want to stop him! I have no intention to be a spectator to Simon and Cal’s love story.

“I do.”

“Okay, but why? Believe me, it comes from a place of love, and I’ll be there for you no matter what, but… Bram, if you want to be with Simon, go for it. Fight for the boy. Not just with a stupid shirt, but with everything you got. The two of you clearly connected with your sexy little emails.”

“They weren’t sexy.”

“Well… your bad, I guess. Anyway, I know he would choose you. He has a thing for his penfriend, but he also has a thing for you.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“How can you be that smart, and that stupid, all at the same time? You should see the way he looks at you at lunch, and then blushes and doesn’t look at you anymore. It’s fun to watch, really. But my point is… if you are still not ready, or if you don’t want Simon that way… shouldn’t you just… let him go?”

Part of my head understands Garrett’s point and sort of agrees. But the rest of my brain, my heart, and the rest of my body really, is protesting wildly.

“I can’t do that.”

“Which one?”

I don’t have an answer for Garrett.

“Okay. Well, like I said, I’ll be there for you no matter what. I just can’t make that decision for you. The question is: what are you the most afraid of? Being out, or Simon moving on?”

 

I know Garrett has a point. I know it’s not fair to keep wanting Simon to be into me if the best I can do is keep hiding even when he knows I know who he is. When the most I could do for him is leave a piece of clothing by his locker.

If he found someone in Cal Price with the stupid hair, with the stupid play practices, with the stupid blue eyes, then maybe I should be happy for him?

But no part of me is happy about it. It presses and pulls inside of me and it just… hurts.

Just like that, I know. I know what I’m the most afraid of. And Garrett is right. It is time for me to fight for Simon. He likes Blue. Now I just need to make him fall in love with Bram. To make him see in me what I see in him.

I have no freaking idea how. But maybe Garrett will?

I send him a text: ‘ _Alright. Let’s fight._ ’

To which he replies: ‘ _That’s my boy. Let’s get you some dick action._ ’

I raise an eyebrow. Looking from the outside, Garrett and I are so different that our friendship is odd. And sometimes, I can totally see his douche side. But I know the real him, I can read between the lines of his crude texts, and he is probably one of the best people I’ve ever met.

There is something reassuring in the fact that no matter what happens with Simon, Garrett will be there to cheer with me, or pick me up.

 

At diner, my mother is quieter than usual, and I am not in a talking mood, therefore our dining room is almost silent. But it doesn’t feel quiet, just… gloom.

“Bram, baby, are you alright?”

“Yes. It has just been a long… term.”

“Bram… is this about a boy?”

“What?” That is potentially the last question I expected from my mother. It’s just me and her, so we are close. We talk about a lot of things. But she never really asked me about girls, so I didn’t expect her to ask me about boys either.

“I don’t know… When you came out to me, you were so happy afterwards. Proud, even. Like you were opening a new chapter in your life. And it was a good look on you. Then, you started having these dreamy eyes, from time to time, and I wondered if, maybe, you came out to me because there was a boy. But since you’ve been back to school, it has been like… a light inside of you was dying out. I know something is wrong, and I was wondering if it were because of a boy. Or do some kids tease you at school for being gay? Because there are harassment laws against that. Or is it about you dad’s new family?”

“Mom, stop guessing, please. I guess… I guess it’s about a boy.”

“Ah. First heartbreak?”

“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Love is always complicated. How complicated is this specific boy?”

“He’s not the one that’s making things complicated. I’m just being weak.”

“No, you’re not. If you are brave enough to feel, you are not being weak. But you do have a point there. In love… in life, really, you don’t get anything without putting yourself out there.”

“It’s just… hard.”

“Yes, it’s hard. And you know what baby, it’s only going to get harder. I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you want to hear, and people drawn you all in ‘it gets better’ speeches. But you are a black, gay man. Life is not going to be a smooth ride for you. I am not telling you that it’s going awful, I’m just telling you… you need to build a shell, Bram. A skin thick enough that the ugliness in the world becomes just… background noise. So you can focus on the beautiful things.”

I can feel my eyes tearing up a little bit. That, just there, might have been the prep talk I needed. Not about Simon. Not about coming out. Just about… being. And not apologizing about it.

“Is this boy worth it?”

“He is.”

“Then take a chance baby. Real heartbreak will hurt less than this situation which is clearly eating you up.”

And then, as if we had just been discussing the weather, she just moves on to another topic.

I don’t mind. I’m grateful, actually. I can answer on autopilot mode whilst thinking about Simon and how I’m going to get him back.

 

It’s been a week since I gave Simon my number. I gave him space to make his move, and he hasn’t. Blue did all he could, and it wasn’t enough. I guess it’s Bram’s turn. But it’s a bit hard to wow the boy when I _can’t even talk to him_.

I had this plan to talk to him at lunch, but then he looked at me with his lingering silver eyes, and just like that, I couldn’t anymore.

I can see Garrett giving me looks, and I try my best to ignore him.

All the courage I accumulated yesterday seems to have evaporated, leaving me there to just stare at Simon, wishing my mouth to open.

Then the worst possible thing in the entire world happens. Cal Price appears at our lunch table. “Hi Simon. Can I talk to you?” Simon nods and leaves with Cal, while Abby tries really hard not to shriek at it.

On the other hand, I feel like I’m dying. Fuck my stupid mouth. Am I too late by ten seconds?

Garrett shoots me a look that’s between ‘Wanna talk about it?’ and ‘I told you so!’

But when Simon comes back ten minutes later, he doesn’t seem happy like someone who was just asked on a date. He seems grumpy.

“Everything okay, dude?” Nick asks.

“I just listened to Taylor Metternich telling me what a disappointment I am for ten minutes straight.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Leah asks.

“Well the play starts on Friday, so we have play practice every evening this week starting tomorrow. But apparently, some of us are failing algebra, so we have to go to extra study sessions instead. She tried to talk the teachers out of it, but it is ‘academics first’. So, she made another deal.”

“Taylor is failing algebra?”

“No, Leah. Taylor is a freaking ray of sunshine put on Earth so the rest of us can feel like shit. She is not failing anything. She just likes to get involved in things that have nothing to do with her. So, the deal is that she is going to tutor us tonight, we take another test tomorrow, and if we pass, we can carry on with play practice… I don’t know why she even cares that much; I don’t have any line.”

“Okay, Taylor is annoying,” Abby admits. “But it’s just one evening. Maybe it’s worth it?”

“It’s one evening with Taylor, which is bad enough on its own, Cal, who is still waiting for an answer since he asked me out, and Martin. Any of you want to guess why I don’t want to spend time with Martin? And then a couple of others from the play.”

One after-school study session with Cal? I can’t let that happen. If Cal is still waiting, it means that Simon hasn’t said yes yet. Blue still has a chance. I still have a chance. But I can’t really tell Simon not to go to a mandatory study session. I can’t crash either – I am nowhere near failing algebra.

I am then reminded of why Garrett is my best friend. “You don’t have to study with them,” he says. “You can study on your own, can’t you?”

“I guess. But I _do_ need help with algebra, and I _don’t_ want to have to go to extra study sessions all week.”

Garrett shrugs. “Then join our study group.”

I look at him funny – _what study group?_ – but he kicks me in the shin under the table.

“You have a study group?” Nick asks.

“Not really. I go to Bram’s house and he shares his knowledge. Still, Bram and I beat Cal and Taylor, no?”

I could kill him for the double-entendre, but I could kiss him for doing exactly what I was unable to.

Simon looks at me, and his eyes are a shade lighter than they were a minute ago.

“Would it be cool if I tagged along?” he asks.

“Sure. You can’t be harder to teach than Garrett,” I promise. Even though it is probably a lie, because Garrett is way better than me at anything involving numbers.

Plans are made for the evening, addresses and phone numbers are exchanged. Simon puts my number in his phone, and nothing happens. No frown, no mouth falling open. He hasn’t saved Blue’s number. I sort of already knew it, but it stings anyways.

 

“Garrett, thanks for the study group thing,” I tell him as we are walking to the parking lot after school. “It was quick thinking.”

“No problem. But I can’t make it.”

“What? Why?”

“Well first of all, for obvious reasons, I don’t want to spend the evening stuck between you and Spier. It’s either going to go really bad, and it will be embarrassing to watch, or it will go very well, and it will be even more embarrassing to watch. Second of all, I really don’t want to do algebra tonight. And third, I promised my parents that I would help my mom build the garden shed after school.”

“Okay. Should I let Simon know that it’s off?”

“What? Are you that stupid? Of course not. I will text both of you when I remember that I can’t make it. Which will be ten minutes _after_ Spier is supposed to be at your place. Feel me?”

I could kiss Garrett right now. I mean, if I weren’t saving my first kiss for an oblivious boy with moon grey eyes.

 

Garrett’s text arrives before Simon, and I am afraid that maybe, Simon won’t come anymore. But less than five minutes later, he shows up.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry I’m late. So, did you see Garrett’s text?”

“Yeah. But if you’re still fine with it, I can still help you.”

“Yes please. Anything but Taylor’s study group of hell.”

I can’t help but laugh and he looks pleased. We got to the living room and start working. I don’t know if Garrett knew this, but having some actual school work to do helps a lot. I am good at this. I know I won’t make a fool of myself, and I finally can talk in front of Simon. _To_ Simon. It feels great. I feel like I’m on the top of the world.

We work for an hour, and I can tell that Simon made progress, before the conversation shifts to other topics. School, books, music, movies, Nick and Abby, before finally we completely give up on the work to focus only on the conversation.

Simon is funny and charming as ever, but this time, I am funny and charming back. At least I am talking back.

“Well, I was late today, because my mother wouldn’t believe that I was actually coming here to study. I am grounded, so I can only leave the house for school work, but she heard a boy’s name and she was so sure I was going on a date.”

I freeze, and maybe blush a little bit because Simon looks a bit embarrassed.

“I have the same sort of issue,” I admit. “My mother is trying to get involved in my love life. She thinks I need to be brave and take a chance.” I don’t know where I got the courage to get so cheeky. Maybe if I push my luck, I won’t be able to back down and I will have to tell him. Or maybe I’ll just drop too many hints and Simon will guess. How oblivious can he realistically be?

“Oh. I can totally relate. My mum is the best at being _too_ interested in my life. Especially since I came out to her.” Simon’s voice cracks a little bit at the end, and he looks at me as if he were trying to gauge how I feel about him being gay. If only he knew. I try to smile, and I guess it’s enough because he relaxes a bit and carries on. “So, is your mum right to be nosy? Is there a girl?”

It feels like he punched me in the stomach. He is nowhere near figuring out that it’s me, is he? “No. There isn’t any girl. What about you?”

Simon smirks at me. “No. No girl either.”

I throw my coach pillow at his face. “I know that. But is there anyone special?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know. It’s complicated…” I can perfectly picture him blushing over Cal Price and it feels like my chest is being ripped apart. I try to hide it, but I don’t think I do a particularly good job, because Simon frowns and asks: “Is it weird to talk about it?”

And it is. But I can see that Simon probably thinks that I am uncomfortable discussing boys with him, so I reply: “No, it’s fine. So… Cal Price?”

Simon’s eyes widen. “What?”

“In English, the other day, Abby mentioned Cal Price asking you out.”

“Oh. I forgot you were there for that.” And that stings a little bit, because I am always so acutely aware of Simon’s presence. “But no, I wasn’t talking about Cal.” My heart skips a beat and then starts again faster. I can feel hope spreading in me. _Don’t. Don’t hope. It hurt like hell, last time_.

“No?”

“No. There is this other boy… He’s more of an online boyfriend.”

_Me. He means me._ _It has to be me, right?_ And there is no way I can contain the hope anymore. Is Jacques really still mine? Could Simon and I still become a thing? “I thought we had a thing, but… I don’t know. I think that either I hurt his feelings, or isn’t interested since he knows what I look like… Maybe both.”

Simon looks at me with his moon eyes, and I remember vividly his email saying that he would understand if I weren’t attracted to him. That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read. He has no idea how hard I have to try every day to _not_ stare at him all lunch long.

But if he thinks that, it means that he hasn’t found the note. I couldn’t have been clearer on being attracted to him. It is proof, finally, that he was not ignoring me on purpose.

“Why would he be stop being interested because he knows what you look like?”

Simon shrugs. “Of course, you wouldn’t understand. You look… _like that_ … but the rest of us have insecurities, you know.”

He said that with a smile, so I know he’s teasing more than anything, but I don’t care how he meant what he said. I just care that he said it. Because suddenly, there is this massive possibility that Simon might not be disappointed that I’m Blue. That I too would be crazy to think that he’s not attracted to me.

I could tell him. Right now. Put a stop to both our anxieties. But the words choke in my throat, and instead, I say “You look fine, Simon.” _Fine_? Where did that even come from? I consider myself to be a literate person. But whenever Simon is here, it’s like stress and timidity take over the logical parts of my brain.

“Thanks? But I think I would prefer it that way. Because otherwise, that means that it’s me. He knows who I am, he’s fine with what I look like, but he just doesn’t want anything to do with _me_. And that just hurts more, you know?”

I do know. Because I felt that way when he guessed Cal Price. When I read his stupid list for the first time – because, yes, I am masochistic enough to have read it multiple times – I felt like I wouldn’t even be able to breathe again.

But then I breathed again. Because people get their hearts broken everyday and life just carries on. But now that Simon is throwing hope at me again, I am unable to seize it. Because what if I’m wrong again? What if I tell him I’m Blue, and he rejects me again? Then, will I be able to take another breath?

“Simon… if this boy is your online boyfriend… doesn’t he like you _for_ you? Isn’t that the whole point?”

“I don’t know. I thought so, but… he’s not really my online boyfriend. I think I just hoped we were, and now I realise that we weren’t and that it was all in my head. That I’m the only boy in the world stupid enough to fall in love over email.”

_Love_. He said love. He said love when talking about me.

I think my heart just exploded. I have to tell him. I have to free him from the torment I seem to be inflicting him. I have to take that chance. In this second, it feels like the heartbreak I might feel is an acceptable risk for what the other alternative could bring both of us. “Simon…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be whining. Should we go back to work?”

“No. I mean yes, but…”

All my good resolutions vanish as the front door opens and my mother enters the house. I can hear her putting her coat in the closet and then she is in the living room. I love my mom, but I don’t think I have ever been less happy to see her before.

“Oh, hi Bram. You’re home early!”

“Practice was cancelled. Mom, this is Simon. Simon, this is my mom.”

Simon stands up and shakes my mom’s hand with a warm and genuine smile. They exchange pleasantries, and I can see the way she is looking at him. There is a trace of curiosity that she never had for my other friends. And something else. Something like… hope?

Oh, I need to kill this straight away. We can’t both be hoping for this, because we don’t need to both be disappointed when all of this comes crashing down. She looks at me and I shake my head slightly. I don’t think Simon noticed, but I know she did. She seems slightly disappointed, and the hope is gone from her eyes, but she is still smiling and making small talk with Simon.

“Are you staying for dinner, Simon?” She asks.

“Oh, that is very nice of you, but I wouldn’t like to impose.”

“You are not imposing. I would be delighted to have you. I only know Bram’s friends from the soccer team. They are all very nice, but they enjoy talking about sport, and I am helpless in that department. Something tells me that you have other topics of conversation.”

I really don’t know how she does it. In a couple of words, she managed to compliment Simon and my soccer friends, whilst sort of insulting them all as well. But I am not going to complain now, because against all odds, Simon accepted her offer.

My mother is always very nice and polite to my friends. She asks them about school, their families and soccer. She even asked Garrett to walk her through the differences between Xbox and PlayStation. But it’s different with Simon. They talk about everything and they just seem to _bond_.

I feel like I am merely a spectator of the scene, but I am fine with this. There is a warmth spreading in my chest as I watch Simon fitting in so easily in my life.

_Please, Jacques, don’t be disappointed that it’s me. Keep loving me when I’m all of Bram and not just Blue_.

My mom looks at me and say: “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Bram.”

“I guess I’m tired.” I am not. But I can’t really tell them that I’m quiet because Simon Spier reduces me to silence by his sheer presence.

“As he been like this all day?” She asks Simon. He smiles softly and answers: “He’s been like this all year.”

I shift uncomfortably on my chair. Please, Mom, stop telling Simon that he’s getting me tongue-tied. She seems to pick up on my weird energy, because she changes subject. And yet, she manages to make things worse. “So, Simon, you mentioned that girl Abby quite a lot. Is she your special girl?”

I completely freeze, my fork half-way to my mouth. My eyes dart to Simon, but he is still smiling. “I guess she is.” I put my fork back down. _What?_ “She my special girl. But she is not my girlfriend if that was your question.”

“No?”

Simon’s eyes meet mine. There is a question in there, and I nod softly. I know my mom is going to ask me a thousand questions when she knows Simon is gay, but I want him to have this moment. This tiny coming out, completely on his term, with someone who won’t judge him. If that’s the only thing I can ever give him, it will still be something.

“Actually, I am homosexual.”

I hate that my mother’s eyes shoot to me straight away. It’s for less than a second, but I know that Simon noticed.

“And how is that? Being gay in a Georgian High School?”

Simon gasps. I don’t think he expected that question. I don’t think anyone ever asked him that. He probably doesn’t realize that even though my mother cares about his answer, she is also asking as a way to understand what I am going through and I might not be telling her.

“It’s not great. Some days it’s a bit awful.” My heart breaks a little bit there. And I wonder why he never told me that. Not _Bram me_ , obviously, but Blue. “But I have supporting friends,” he continues, “and I also understand that it will get better. I will learn how to deal with things. University will be more progressive. I will find someone who will stand with me through all of it.”

My mom nods. I don’t know what she is going to say next, but I need this to stop. It’s just too awkward. I can’t let Simon have this conversation in front of me without knowing who _me_ is.

“Mom.”

“Abraham?”

I can see Simon frown. “Abraham?”

My mom chuckles. “Oh, you didn’t know. That’s Bram’s best kept secret.”

No, it’s not.

Simon turns to me. “How come I never knew that Bram is short for something?”

“Because you never asked.” I reply, but softly, with a smile, so he knows that I don’t mind.

“That is really unusual” he carries on. “Why did you pick Abraham?”

“Oh, his father wanted to. I wanted something more common. It was a fight between Abraham and Louis. We opted for both, but I wanted Louis to be first. His father wouldn’t change his mind, and he said that we could always shorten it. I point blank refused to have a son named ‘Abe’, so we settled on Bram. Abraham ‘Bram’ Louis Greenfeld.”

She looks at me and smiles like I’m still a baby and that’s both sweet and mortifying. But what’s even more mortifying is Simon’s face. Because I can so clearly see him connecting the dots. He is obviously not _that_ oblivious.

The atmosphere of the room shifts, and Simon and I just stare at each other, breathing heavily. I can’t read the expression on his face and it terrifies me.

On the periphery, I sort of see my starring at me, then Simon, then me again. Finally, she stands up and takes her plate. “I have no idea what just happened, but I think you both need a minute. I’ll be in the kitchen prepping the dessert. It should take me five to ten minutes.”

And she leaves the room. My brain sort of registers that there is a high probability that she will be able to hear everything from the kitchen, but I don’t care. This is it. I am going to gain or lose everything. Just now.

Simon is still starring at me, with his mesmerizing grey eyes that I still can’t read, and I still seem to be unable to speak.

“It’s you.” Simon’s voice is soft and sweet, and the hope is back, with an army of butterflies spreading through my body.

“It’s me.”

Then we are both silent again, and it shouldn’t be this uncomfortable. We are Jacques and Blue. We have been waiting so long for this. Where is the firework? Is that it? Am I too far from what he expected?

“I know I’m not Cal Price.”

Simon frowns. “No, you’re not.” Oh. “You are so much more.” _Oh_. “I’m sorry if I’m not what you want.”

I let my hand slide on the table to find his, and the butterflies go even wilder when he squeezes it. “Simon… you are everything I want. You haven’t found the second note, have you?”

“What second note?”

“In the shirt.”

“ _In_ the shirt?”

I nod. He shakes his head. I smile. He smiles back.

My mom walks back in the room and we let go of each other as if our touch was suddenly burning. She pretends she didn’t see anything, but I can see her smile softly.

I have never been less interested by a dessert before. I am almost counting down in my head until it wouldn’t be considered rude to leave the table and take Simon to my room so we can talk. Just as I am about to say something, my mom gives me a look. “Simon, Bram and I will clear the table and load the dishwasher. Just go to the living room and watch some TV if you want.”

Simon understands that it is not a suggestion and leaves the two of us alone.

“So… who is Simon?”

“I will have a better answer in an hour” I answer, because it is the truth.

“Is he the boy you mentioned yesterday?”

“He is.”

“Am I going to see more of him?”

“I hope so.”

“I do to.” She smiles and her eyes go soft. But then she makes The Face. The ‘Every Time Including Oral’ Face. “Are the two of you going to disappear to your room now?”

“I need to talk to him, and it’s more private than the living room.”

“Door open.”

“Mom!”

“Door open.”

“Mom, Simon and I are not even _dating_ yet. Can we agree that we are not just about to go to my room and have sex? Can we also agree that if we were that desperate to have sex, it wouldn’t be when you are on the other side of a very thin wall? We would probably just find an excuse to go for a ride and go literally _anywhere_ else?”

I try to sound confident – even though I probably look mortified – and my mom bursts out laughing. “Are you that desperate for me not to hear that conversation that you would bring up sex instead?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Door closed. But just keep in mind that I will come in unannounced at random times.”

I nod. That is actually probably more effective than an open door to ensure that we will both remain fully clothed. Forever.

I go back to the living room where the TV isn’t on, and Simon is pacing. He smiles when I enter the room.

“Why was your mom laughing?”

“I know that now that we can talk in person, I’m probably going to realize that I don’t know you as well as I think. But I can assure you: you don’t want to know that.”

He raises his eyebrows, obviously curious, but takes my advice and doesn’t ask.

“Do you want to go to my room?”

He swallows, nods, and follows me in my room. He looks around and seems to be studying every detail. “It’s so… _Blue_.” His words warm me up, because my walls are ivory. He didn’t mean the color.

I have this sudden urge, and I don’t think I could stop myself even if I wanted to. I step into Simon’s space and I put my arms around him. His arms embrace me as well and we hug tightly and quietly for a long time.

“I’m so happy it’s you” he finally whispers, sending shivers down my spine.

“You have no idea how long I have been longing for this. I don’t know what I was so afraid of.”

Simon takes a step back and mocks me for using the word ‘longing’ out loud. We sit on my bed, hold hands and just talk. Like we used to email. It feels like getting Jacques back. It feels like discovering Simon. It feels like finally getting the boy.

As nice as it is, we can both feel a tension building up. Whenever one of us moves to get in a more comfortable position, we end up a little bit closer. Until finally we are only inches apart, and ours eyes keep darting down to our lips.

I honestly don’t know who closes the gap, but here they are. Here are the fireworks.

 

Ten minutes later, we are sitting on my bed, facing each other, leg intertwined.

“Why would you put a note _inside_ the shirt?”

“I didn’t want someone else to find it. Or for it to fall and be lost. Out of the two notes, it was the important one!”

Simon sighs. “We are both idiots, aren’t we?”

“Well… I’m the one who thought you were into Cal, and I’m the one who hid the note too well. I just thought you would… you know… wear it.”

“I almost did, but… never mind.”

“Simon, don’t do this. Talk to me.”

“I don’t know… I was a bit angry at you, I guess? You knew who I was, but you wouldn’t tell me who you were, and it felt… both unfair, and like you were rejecting me. Also, you weren’t really emailing me back whilst all this shit was happening, and… I didn’t want you to see me wearing the shirt when I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Fair enough. Has it been in your closet the entire time?”

Simon shift a bit and blushes a lot. “Not really.” He looks at me, and I must look judgment-free enough, because he carries on. “It’s under my pillow.”

“Sorry?”

“I… I have been sleeping with the shirt under my pillow. It was weird to wear it, but it still came from you.” That makes me smile. There is something very comforting in knowing how special I always was to him.

“That’s actually the reason I’m grounded. Sort of.”

“What?”

“Well after the play, the other day, Nick and Abby took me to that restaurant, and I got drunk. I got really annoying in the car, asking Abby to go back to my house so I could get the T-shirt because I didn’t want to sleep without it. It’s a bit pathetic, really.”

“I don’t know. It just makes me happy that you like it that much. It was sort of the point. But… wait… you were drinking, and she was driving anyway?”

“Oh, I’m the only who drank.”

I’m getting confused about the sort of evening they had. “Nick and Abby just watched you drink?”

“No, I just…” Simon freezes and looks a bit panicked. I rub his leg with my thumb and give him an encouraging nod. We need to build our way to talk like we emailed. Not, actually, strike that, we need to get better. All this mess was from miscommunication. “This college guy was buying me drinks, and didn’t realise straight away that there was alcohol in them and… I just got wasted.”

Oh. _Wait, what?_ “You got hit on by a boy from university?”

“Yeah.”

Simon is not looking at me.

“Did… did something happen?”

Suddenly, Simon’s eyes are back on mine. “No, of course, not. Wait… Cal… now that… would you be the jealous kind?”

There is no judgement or irritation in his voice, just curiosity. That’s a good question. I have never been in a relationship, so I don’t really know. I like to think that I would be able to trust whoever I am with, but I can’t deny that I have let the Cal situation get under my skin. “I don’t think so. I just think that when it comes to you, I am still a little insecure. I have had this crush on you for so long. Since before we emailed. When I found out that my crush and the mysterious boy I was falling for were the same person, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. But I was so sure you wouldn’t want me. Because I had seen you look at Cal, and it felt like you were never looking at me.”

“Bram,” he says, stopping my rambling. “Cal is cute. I mean… the bangs. But you are cuter. And…” he blushes somewhat, “and you’re really hot.” Now I’m blushing. “And Cal and I shared a few moments during drama club, but you and I shared everything. There is no comparison there.”

He looks at me so fondly that I feel like I am falling in love with him all over again.

“So, what happens now?” I ask.

“What do you want?”

“I want to be your boyfriend.”

He looks extremely pleased with that.

“I would like that too. But… are you ready to be out?”

“I think so. I’m not ready to… shout it out from the rooftops, but I don’t want to hide it either. Should we… tell our families and friends, and let the rest of the world just… find out?”

“That sounds perfect.”

I know we should talk some more, but I can’t wait anymore. He has to be home soon, so we have to make the most of it. I lean in and kiss him again. Yep. The fireworks are definitely back.

 

Later that night, just as I am getting ready to go to bed, I get a text. It’s from Simon. It reads ‘ _I found your note Seriously Bram…_ in _the shirt?_ ’ And then a second one. ‘ _I love the way your eyes are so expressive even when you’re so quiet. I love your perfect soccer calves. I love the way you blush whenever anyone notices how smart you are. So if you think I’m not attracted to you, Bram, you’re crazy.”_

His message warms me up and gets me all giddy. He just gets me. He’s perfect.

 

The next day, I don’t see him until lunchtime. But I see Garrett. He texted me yesterday to know how everything played out, but I ignored him. I just wanted to stay in my bubble a while longer and I wanted it to stay private for a few hours.

But I think he might have taken it as a bad omen, because he greets me as if I just buried my entire family. I smile at him and his entire body relaxes. His smiles even brighter and pulls me into an awkward hug. I shove him off, but I’m happy he would be that pleased for me.

“So, is it a big secret?”

“No. I think… I’m ready, you know?”

I can tell he wants to ask me questions, but he understands the difference between keeping something a secret and discussing it in Creekwood High’s corridors, so he just lets it go and start talking about his garden shed instead.

At lunchtime though, he has the most annoying grin ever, whilst his eyes keep moving between Simon and me. I try to ignore it, but I can see Simon blushing when he notices.

“Garrett, are you alright?” Nick finally asks.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just a sucker for true love.”

I could kill the boy. Abby looks at him, suddenly very interested. “What are you talking about?”

He just shrugs.

“He’s talking about me,” Simon says (no pun intended), and I am surprised. Garrett seems even more surprised. I think he just wanted to torture us for a minute before diverting the conversation. “I have a boyfriend.”

Abby and Leah look at each other and… giggle? Which is just… odd. Those two have a weird relationship, bonding at the most random times.

“Is it because of study group?” Abby asks, eager. “Is it Cal?” I have a weird feeling then. Half of me is annoyed, jealous even, that her brain would go there. But the other half is field with pride. Because I got the boy. Even when our friends were pushing in another direction.

“No, Abby. I keep telling you that nothing is happening with Cal.”

She looks extremely confused. As if, of all the boys on the planet, Cal was the only possible choice. Simon apparently picks on the same thing, because he says: “You know that there are other boys alive, right?”

“Of course there are. But you just haven’t shown interest in any of them. Apart from that college guy who got you drunk, of course.”

Simon’s eyes find mine straight away, and he looks slightly panicked, which I find very endearing.

Nick laughs. “Yeah, what would your boyfriend think of that?”

“I’m fine with it, actually.”

The table falls completely silent. I think they all think they misheard me. All but Simon who looks at me fondly. I would say that we have approximately ten seconds of quiet before the information reach our friends’ brains and they start asking questions. I am therefore enjoying them, staring at my boyfriend as he is smiling back to me.

 

Simon passes his test, and I am proud of him. Of my tutoring skills too, a little bit. Then we barely see each other that week. Between soccer and his play, are timetables are pretty crazy. But we email and text like it’s our job.

For some reason, we don’t call or Facetime each other. We might still be working on the balance between our online and true selves.

This weekend will be Simon’s play. I planned to go see it. All three times. Garrett already promised he would come along as many times as I would make him. Because he’s that kind of friend.

Life is just… good.

 

On Saturday, Garrett drops me back after the play (he came with me twice already, as promised), and my dad’s car is parked in front of my house. Garrett shoots me a look, but I just shrug, because I have no idea what he is doing here.

I walk in the house quietly, and I can hear my parents talking in the living room.

“A boyfriend? Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? Our boy is a catch.”

“Of course he is. But you know Bram. He is very quiet, a bit nerdy, and he can overthink things sometimes. I didn’t think he would get a boyfriend until college. But good for him. So… are they serious?”

“I think so. There is something there that Bram hasn’t told m yet, because they went from ‘this is a kid who sits at my lunch table’ to ‘let’s pick a college together’ kind of relationship in less than an hour. It was both fun and worrying to watch.”

“What’s his name?”

“Simon.”

“And do we like Simon?”

“We don’t really know Simon yet, even though that is probably going to change soon. But so far… yes, we like Simon. We like him very much.”

That comment from my mom really warms me up. Somehow, it is so important that my family likes Simon, because I know he’s here to stay. For as long as he’ll have me.

I think I heard enough, so I make some noise before entering the living room.

“Mom. Dad?”

“I’ll give you some time,” my mom says before going to the kitchen. I sit down with my dad and he smiles gently.

“So, your mother was telling me about Simon.” I can feel myself blush a little bit. “Do you want to tell me about him?” he asks when I stay silent.

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Anything you want to tell me. Did you meet him at school? Is he good to you? Are you in love? What is he interested in? Does he have siblings?”

I laugh and lift my hands to show him that he doesn’t need to extend his list. “Well… I guess we met in school. He is very good to me. He shares his Oreos with me at lunch and, trust me, it is a big deal. I think we are in love… I know I am. He is interested in music and drama. He is in the school musical. He has two sisters. One of them is in college already. The other one is younger. Does that cover all your questions?”

My dad is smiling, but there is something sad in his eyes. I know he is happy for me, but I think some part of him is still struggling with me being gay. “Pretty much. But tell me something else. Something that comes from you.”

“Simon is… he’s good for me. He makes me happy. He makes be braver. He makes me laugh. He makes me want to try new things, to be interesting in new things. He makes me want to be my best self. It’s all very new, but… I know he’ll be there. Whenever I need him to.”

My dad’s smile is a little bit wider now. And even though we are sharing a nice moment, I still don’t know why he’s here. “So, did you come all this way to check on my love life?”

“No, your mother called me a few days ago to say that you were feeling a little blue.” It would be a good pun if my dad knew enough to have made it on purpose. “I had planned to take you out to dinner to change your mind. But I guess it is no longer an appropriate plan.”

Part of me is disappointed, but I understand how busy he is currently.

“Instead, I think we should got get dinner all three of us.” I am slightly confused. My parents don’t spend time together anymore. Unless discussing my love life, apparently. Why does he want to go out with mom? “I mean, if you are ready for me to meet Simon.”

_Oh_. Yes, I’m ready. And I think Simon might be. Maybe that’s one of the perks of having been Blue and Jacques for so long.

“I would love that.”

And my dad smiles. He looks genuinely happy about that prospect.

“Actually, dad… this weekend is Simon’s play. Would you like to come and see it with me? We can get something to eat after it?”

“I would love that.”

And even though he just stole my words, they seem incredibly heartfelt.


	5. What if they met again at the 10 years reunion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been ten years since they left high school. They both lived their lives, but they are still emailing, and Blue still doesn't know how to tell Simon who he is. Especially after all this time.

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 09.42 AM

SUBJECT: Class reunion

 

Blue,

Will you be at the reunion tomorrow? Will I see you? Will you find me?

Love

Simon.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 12.11 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Class Reunion

 

Simon,

I will be there. From your email, I am guessing that so will you. I know you weren’t so sure, and I’m happy I’ll get to see you again. I will definitely come find you.

But I understand what your question really means. Simon… I know how unfair it is that, after all this time, I know who you are, but I remain ‘Blue’. We talked about it many times. The thing is, after all these years, you are still a safe heaven for me to come to when I need to be cheered up, or to share something. And if I reveal my self to you, things will be different.

You will either be mad that I never told you before and this will be the end of that, or you will be surprised and start asking questions, and this is not what our relationship is about. Nothing personal. Or you might be happy that it’s me. Which could have been a good thing when we shared a high school, but there isn’t any future for us with half a country between us, it there?

I just can’t see any possible scenario with me revealing myself to you having a happy ending.

I know you won’t let me call you Jacques anymore, but… regardless of how we call each other, can’t we just stay Jacques and Blue? You are the one constant in my ever-changing life, and I want to keep holding on to that. Now, tomorrow, and for as long as I can.

Love,

Blue.

 

After sending his email, Bram felt empty. The emptiest he had felt in years.

He knows he’s being selfish. He knows he’s refusing Simon something he has been asking for years, nearly eleven years. It’s not Simon’s fault that Bram has been able to figure out who he was back in junior year, but Bram was never able to come out to him as Blue. Or as anything, really. They barely ever spoke in High School.

But they kept emailing. When they left for university, Bram was so sure it would be the end of that. But it hadn’t been. They kept emailing. Always. From time to time, Simon’s frustration would resurface, but it would always disappear as soon as something sweet or serious would arise and take over the conversation. It still left Bram feeling shitty every time.

In many ways, it felt like they grew up together. They never shared anything personal (no names, no specific details of events, no discussing when they would come back home…). But they still went through all the big milestones together.

Bram remember when he could read between the lines that Simon was in a relationship and how it tore him apart. Then he remembered understanding that Simon discovered sex, with someone that wasn’t him. Simon’s first heartbreak, and how Bram couldn’t help but think that if he could have had Simon, he would have hold on to him forever.

Then he tried his hardest not to think that he, in fact, could have had Simon. He just was too much of a coward to have done anything about it.

It’s not exactly that Brad had been waiting for Simon this entire time either. He had boyfriends. Some more serious than others. But time and time again, he would find himself comparing them to Simon. He knows it’s stupid, because he knows he is comparing them to a mixture of High School memories, the image of a person he sees through emails, and the fantasy of what Simon would turn out to have become.

His longest relationship still lasted five years, and it hurt like hell when it ended. He might have been the one who would have made him forget about Simon Spier. But life wasn’t so kind, and even that boy didn’t make Bram let got of his virtual penfriend.

Once, when they were both single, Simon and Blue tried having online sex. It was great during, but awkward afterwards, and they never tried again. However, it’s still a thread that Bram opens occasionally.

But more importantly than anything, he meant what he said in the email. What good could come of it. There relation would change or stop altogether. He wasn’t ready to lose Simon. Any part. And it’s not like they could take it offline, now. Bram just got a job as an English professor at Yale university, after working ten years for this. Simon was living in California. What future would exist there?

 

Walking back in High School took Bram down memory lane. Contrary to most teenagers, especially closeted ones, Bram enjoyed his time in High School. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, but he was a good student, he enjoyed soccer, he had great friends and, regardless of the mess it was and still is, he met Jacques.

“Greenfeld!”

Bram smiles before looking. He would recognize that voice and that energy anywhere. He turns around and see a very happy Garrett come up to him ang hug him like they haven’t seen each other in years. Five days. It’s been five days.

When he transferred school to CHS, Bram feeling a little lost and overwhelmed. Garrett was one of the first person he met. His first thoughts on him were ‘ _what a white douche_ ’. And all these years later, Garrett remains one of the best people Bram knows. He is still awkward at first and he can be an acquired taste. But he is smart, kind, loyal, unjudging, forgiving and very funny. He was there for Bram more times than he could count, even the times Bram wanted a shoulder to cry on, no questions asked.

“How long have you been here?”

“Like ten minutes. I went to the soccer pitch. Well it’s still there.”

“What a surprise!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bram saw Taylor Metternich walking toward them, the same fake smile she always had glued to her face.

“Bram! Garrett! Long time no see! How are you two?”

“Great,” Garrett answers joyfully. “How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. There was no way I would peak in high school. I’ve seen on the list that you didn’t bring plus ones? Don’t worry, I get it. My husband is stuck in Italy for the week. BUT he said he would bring me a gift from Milan to make it up to me. Isn’t he sweet? What about your lovely wives?”

“But Taylor, why would I deny myself to all the other women by getting married?” Garrett asks.

Bram can’t help but let a little laugh out. The joke wasn’t that funny. Taylor’s face was. She put her smile back on her face and turned to Bram.

“And you? Are you being philanthropic with your dating life too, or do you have a lovely girl back home?”

“Neither. I’m gay, Taylor.”

“Oh! When did you find out? After high school? It’s a shame, you and Simon would have made _such a cute couple_! Oh look, Ashley is here!”

And off she goes. I’ve always found Taylor irritating, but I don’t think I’ve ever hated her until now. Not only she put her finger exactly where it hurts, but I also hate the cliché it is. Let’s put the two gays together and something will happen. I also hate that the cliché can be applied to me.

“I thought it would take her at least an hour to do something like that,” Garrett comments. “But then again, ‘there is no way she would peak in high school.’”

“Sometimes, I think back to school, and I feel like I miss her. I don’t, anymore.”

“That’s just because you’re upset she perfectly diagnosed your Spier crush.”

“What?” Bram still considers Garrett to be his best friend. He lives in New York and they commute regularly to see one another, and spend even more time on the phone. But he never mentioned Simon to him. Simon/Jacques is the only thing in his life that Bram has never shared with anyone.

“Oh, come on! When you told me you were gay, my first thought, even though I would never have said that to you at loud as you were coming out to me, was ‘I know’. I didn’t know because of your attitude, or things you said, or the way you looked, or anything like that. I knew because of the way you looked at Spier, sometimes.”

“What?”

“I don’t think anyone else noticed. But I know you, man.”

Bram took a minute to process that information and let Garrett drag him to a table. One by one, members of his former lunch table arrived. Stories got exchanged about the last ten years.

Nick was there with his heavily pregnant wife.

Abby had just signed for a cable show.

Leah was half way through her first solo art show in Chicago’s biggest art gallery.

Bram was so happy to see his old friends so happy and accomplished.

And Simon… Simon still wasn’t there.

“What about you?” Abby asked Garrett. “I heard somewhere that you move to New York?”

“Yes, I’m working for the sports section at the New York Times.”

“That sounds prestigious.”

“It’s not, I’m still at the bottom of the ladder. But I’m climbing my way up.”

Bram was going to answer something, but that’s when it happens. Simon Spier walks in the room. Holding hand with the most handsome man Bram has ever seen. It stings so much that Bram thinks he could throw up.

Simon introduces Aiden. Aiden is smart, and funny, and fits in their little group immediately. If he didn’t hate him, Bram is sure he would like him a lot, which makes him even more irritating. The more he speaks, the more perfect for Simon he looks, the more Bram wants to close his eyes and cover his hears like a little boy.

“So, Aiden,” Leah says, and Bram is annoyed at how smitten she sounds. Because it’s Leah, and she’s never smitten. “What do you do for a living?”

‘ _Underwear model_ ’ Bram thinks, snidely.

“I work for a non-profit that works to help victims of natural disasters all over the globe.” Of course he is.

They all keep talking and Bram is struck by how Simon is still the same boy he was in school, but better. He is much more confident, witty and funny. He grew up to be slightly less cute, but more handsome. Hotter, too.

Simon keeps glancing around, and Bram can’t help wondering if it’s because he’s looking for Blue.

Bram sees so much of email Simon in the man in front of him that it hurts. There is no denying it anymore. He doesn’t have a crush on Simon anymore. He is simply in love with him.

But there is Aiden. Perfect Aiden, with the perfect body, the perfect jokes and the perfect job, a possessive hand placed on Simon’s lower back.

It’s all too overwhelming. He needs some air.

 

Bram is leaning against the fence by the soccer field. Right where Simon once asked him about his soccer ‘audition’. He remembers that day vividly for three reasons. It was Simon’s first day at school after being outed, and he was so brave facing it all. And Bram had been so close to walk up to him that day and come out to him. As gay, as Blue, all of it. But then the second event happened. Simon snapped at him, calling him out about liking Leah. Bram realized right then that Simon was nowhere close to figuring out who he was. He was doing what they said shouldn’t be done. He was assuming that he was straight. Because it still was his default. And then right in this spot, they had their first conversation. It wasn’t even a real conversation. But it was sweet, and easy, and for the first time, he was able to talk to Simon Spier.

Bram jerked in surprise as someone leaned next to him.

“Sorry,” Simon laughed. “I thought you heard me coming”.

“I was pretty deep in the past,” Bram admits.

“Thinking about all your big wins? You were quite the soccer star back then.”

“I was not.”

“You were. You always looked so graceful on the field. Even though, officially, I was only supporting Nick, and no one else from our lunch table. And if I recall, this is approximately the spot where I made a fool of myself, calling your try-outs ‘auditions’. You probably don’t even remember that.”

“I do, in fact.”

“Raah. My teenage self really hoped you would forget it.”

“Why? It was endearing.”

“Endearing? Boy, I missed you. It’s been too long. Last time was…”

“Nick’s wedding.”

“That’s right. What a night that was. Who would have thought he would be the one getting married in his twenties? Actually… scrap that… who would have thought he would be the first one to get a kid?”

“That’s a crazy vision,” Bram admits. “But I think he’ll be great. And Maya seems great.”

Simon nods. “Obviously, I don’t see Nick as much as ten years ago, and not nearly as much as you and Garrett, but we try to catch up at least twice a year. Maya is often there, and there are times I forget she wasn’t a member of the group when we were growing up. She just… fits in, you know?”

Bram nods. To be honest, he was only half listening. He is trying his hardest not to stare at Simon, but in the golden light of the dying day, there is something so mesmerizing about his features. In this moment, all of Bram fears are fading away. He knows Simon leaves thousands of miles from him, and that they missed their shot at being boyfriends. But he thinks that he could kiss Simon, right now, and if they could have just that, one evening together, maybe that could be enough after all.

But there was Aiden. Perfect Aiden with his possessive hand caressing Simon’s back.

So Bram snaps out of it.

“So… I think you’re the only one who didn’t talk about what you’re doing lately.”

“I’ve just gotten a job in as an LGBT students counsellor in a university.”

“Fed up with high school students?”

“Not really. But I found university harder to navigate than high school. Discovering drinking, sex, dating, and there still isn’t enough information for people who aren’t straight.”

“That’s true. Well, I guess the fact that your job exists shows progress.”

“I think my job title is an indication of how much I’m still needed. If the school was as progressive at it says, I would just be an adviser, and I would advise everyone, _including_ LGBT students. But I also understand why they would want to create a safe space. I guess it will be my job to make the university a better place. One student, and one term at a time.”

“Talking about that, Simon… I’m sorry I never reached out to you. Back in school. It must have been lonely, sometimes. Being the gay kid in school.”

“Bram… don’t worry about it. If anyone understands the importance of coming out in your own time and terms, it’s me. Besides, I’m pretty sure you weren’t the only closeted students then.”

Now. Now is the time to say it.

Bram stays silent and they end up going back inside.

 

Bram has always known that Simon would respond better to him coming out as Blue as he would randomly finding out. So, things could not have gotten more wrong.

The group is discussing babies in general, Nick and Maya’s in particular, when Garrett mentions Bram getting a sibling relatively late, when his dad and stepmother had a baby during their senior year. Simon frowns. Bram didn’t share that information back then, for the obvious reason that Blue had done it, and he couldn’t have let Simon connect the dots. Simon sort of does it now, but he seems to discard it. A coincidence can happen.

The group is jokingly discussing first sexual awakening when Bram lets slip that his was awkwardly about one of his step mother’s relative. Simon frown again. A bit longer. But he lets go again. Coincidences happen.

Bram get on hedge a little bit. He has to be careful, now.

But Garrett doesn’t know to be careful. Because he doesn’t know about Jacques or Blue. About Bram’s secret decade lasting virtual love story. So, when the group talks about family traditions and he mentions Bram’s Hotel Hanukkah, he can’t really blame him. But he never liked Garrett less than in this moment. Because Simon doesn’t frown this time. He just stares at Bram.

And the is no moon in those eyes. Just solid iron.

They must have a weird vibe, because everyone stops talking and just looks at them.

“Seriously? Seriously, Bram? Are you fucking serious right now?” Simon spits the words more than he says them. If the world wasn’t ending, Bram would tease Simon on his lack of vocabulary. But Simon is still staring at him with his iron gate eyes. And then he’s gone.

Aiden stands up to go after him, but Bram can’t let _him_ have this moment. He won’t. it doesn’t matter how ugly things are about to get. This moment is for Jacques and Blue. Not for Simon to bond with his boyfriend over it.

“No, I’ll go. It’ between me and him.”

“Bram… what’s going on?” Abby asks, nervous.

“Nothing. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. We’ll be right back.”

 

Bram finds Simon in the bathroom, splashing water on his face.

“Simon, I…” But Simon turns around and he still seems angry, which silences Bram.

“I’ve always thought that I didn’t know Blue. That if saw him, I wouldn’t even remember his because of how little interactions we had in school. But it’s _you_ , Bram. We sat on the goddamn same table _every day_. And we met time and time again after that, and… What? Was I not good enough for you? Is that it? Because you’re the one that kept it going, just as much as me, Bram!”

“Of course you’re good enough! Simon, you’re everything.”

“Then why, Bram? Why keeping this a secret for _eleven years_?”

“I don’t know. I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Losing you. In school, I thought I wasn’t enough. And then we moved on to university, and I thought you wouldn’t forgive me for not telling you. And after that… it just worked the way it was. I thought for sure that this big reveal would change things. That I wouldn’t have you anymore.”

“Face it, Bram. You never had me. I never had you. All I had was a fucking ghost, following me around, haunting me, making me measure every boy and man to an ideal that would never be mine.”

Bram breathes a little bit faster, because it’s the only thing he can do to not start crying in a high school bathroom.

“Simon, I wanted to tell you. I tried.”

“When?” But Simon’s face softens a little bit. “Morgan’s graduation party, right? Why didn’t you?”

“It was thirteen days until I moved to the East coast. What was the point of doing that then? I was so sure it would be the end of everything, and I thought it would hurt less that way.”

“And Nick’s wedding.”

“Yeah. But we were too drunk, and I didn’t want it to be a drunken decision.”

“Right. Because this is much better.”

This is Bram’s worst nightmare. Part of him knows none of this would have happened if he just had told Simon sooner, but par of him is comforted in the idea that he was right. Things could only continue if Simon remained oblivious of his identity.

“Bram… I was so sure there was this massive reason for you to not giving me your name. I was so sure that you were one of those bullies who teased me for being, and I worked so hard on forgiving you for that. But in the end, you’re just… weak.”

“Simon, you spent ten years in California. I spent ten years in Connecticut. We wouldn’t have worked.”

“You don’t know that. You didn’t even want to try. You didn’t even give me a choice. You just… decided.” Simon doesn’t sound mad anymore. He sounds broken. Bram finds it even worse.

They look at each other for a long time. Bram knows he has to say something. If they end the conversation now, that’s it. There won’t be any fixing it. Even via emails.

“Simon… You said that you measured every boy against Blue. That’s the thing. I don’t know if I can live up to that.”

“You are Blue.”

“I’m not. And you are not Jacques. Or the Simon from the emails. In my emails, I am careful about every word, and I can take time to draft the answer that would be perfect for you. In real life… I’m me. With my insecurities, my awkwardness, my flaws, my imperfect answers…”

“Are you saying that you are disappointed in the real me?”

“No! Of course, not!”

“Then why would I be? You know what, it would be so much easier if you were a disappointment. But you are Hot Bram from Yale. Body and mind. You are kind and fun. You would fit into my life so easily…”

That’s when the door opens, and Aiden comes in. Simon doesn’t even look at him, he keeps staring at Bram.

“Oh. My bad,” Aiden says. “I am clearly interrupting. But you might want to take this out of the toilets.” That’s when Simon looks at him and nods. Aiden doesn’t look intrigued or upset. He is smiling.

 

Bram follows Simon to an unlocked classroom nearby. It used to be their English room, but the couch is gone. After all this time, so is probably Mr Wise.

“Sorry about that,” Simon says.

“Actually, that was sort of perfect timing, wasn’t it? How would I fit in your life now? I thought… I thought I knew you better than this. Usually, I can always tell when you have a boyfriend. But Aiden… he took me by surprise.”

“Aiden’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s… not?”

“There was no way I would come to this fucking reunion as the gay kid who was outed online without showing them that I didn’t give a shit anymore. Aiden is road tripping with me to New York, so I asked him to come with me. I mean… he’s hot, and he’s charming. He looks like a Golden Ticket. Besides, I thought it would make Blue jealous.”

“It did.”

Simon steps into Bram’s personal space. “Bram… Eleven years. That’s so much lost time. Tonight has been an emotional roller-coaster. I could choose to keep being hurt or angry, or I can use everything I know about Blue and understand where you were coming from. I’m here. I’m right here. So are you. What do you want?”

Bram doesn’t know what to say, so he lets his lips do the talking. Against Simon’s. It was new, but it also felt oddly familiar. Since his first boyfriend at college, Bram had a few first kisses. This one was the best. By far. It felt like being able to breathe for the first time.

“That was my wish for today,” Simon whispers when they break apart. “To make out with Blue at the reunion.”

“Well, I’m glad your wish came true.”

“What’s your wish, Bram?”

“Being able to come out as Blue to Simon Spier. That didn’t go so well.”

Simon laughs against Bram. There is still so much to talk about, but Bram knows tonight might be all they have, so he kisses Simon again. And Simon kisses him back. Until they stop and go back to the group, not touching, not showing that anything happened.

Aiden doesn’t say anything, but he’s not touching Simon anymore. Garrett doesn’t comment, and Abby doesn’t ask. Nick offers to go kick some balls on the soccer field, and they all go. Soon, nearly all the former soccer team is there, Aiden joins – Bram likes him a lot more since he’s not Simon boyfriend – and a few other come to watch. They are older, less in shape, not wearing appropriate clothes, but it will remain one of the best CHS soccer memory Bram has.

This evening is much nicer than Bram expected.

 

Bram wakes up in Simon’s arms, and he feels like he could purr. Nothing happened last night. Well… he got the boy, they went back to Bram’s place because his mother is away for work, and they made out like they were catching up on their teenage selves’ fantasy, but they didn’t have sex.

Which might be for the best. It will already be hard enough to go their separate ways.

He tries to sit up straight, but Simon holds him tighter. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking quick shower and then make breakfast.”

“Stay a bit longer.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice. Bram leans back against Simon and they cuddle an extra hour. Then he eventually gets up. When he gets out of the bathroom, Simon is already making breakfast. He smiles at Bram when he walks in the kitchen, and Bram tries to smile back, but his stomach is tight.

“Bram? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“I don’t believe you. This isn’t an email; you can’t hide your face. Then again, you wouldn’t lie to me in an email. How can we be that good and that bad at communication?”

“I don’t know. Are things going to get easier or harder now?”

“It depends on what you want. Are we going back to being email buddies, or do you want more?”

“I want everything with you, Simon. But we have the same issues now that we had yesterday.”

“Not true. For one, I don’t have a boyfriend. Also… I’m not just having a road trip with Aiden. We are moving to New York. He got transferred there, and my new job in in Columbia.”

“Columbia? The university?”

“No. the country. I’m going to commute every day.”

“Very funny… That’s… a two hours drive from New Haven.” A whole world of possibilities just explodes to life in front of Bram.

“I know. It’s not perfect, but it’s manageable. Weekends, holidays… we can take this slow. Date. Get to know who we are without the emails. See if we are as great in life as online. Which we will be.”

Bram smiles. “We’ll be even better.” And he can’t believe how happy he is. How everything is just… falling into place. How, in the end, it’s just _easy_.

He walks to Simon and traces his lips with his fingers. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can touch you. It feels like you’re mine.”

“I am yours,” Simon whispers back, grabbing Bram sides.

The timer rings and Simon serves breakfast. Bram enjoys the domesticity of it. He needs to get used to Simon, but he also knows him, and it is all bewildering.

They talk as easily as they emailed. They discover new sides to one another, and it is nice. For the first time ever, they also discuss the future. They make plans together.

“And you’ll be living with Aiden,” Bram teases. “Should I be worried?”

“He’s not even gay,” Simon laughs. “He’s sort of my Garrett.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You and Garrett have a magical relationship, and no friendship will ever match it,” Simon teases back.

“But, seriously, gay or not, it’s going to be hard knowing that you live with the ultimate fantasy.”

“He is not the ultimate fantasy,” Simon answers. “Not mine, anyway. I’m not sure about Leah, she was almost drooling yesterday. I should tell her about the straight thing.”

“So, what’s your ultimate fantasy?” Bram asks.

Simon locks eyes with him, walks to him, stands behind him, puts his hand around his waist, and whispers it in his hear. He starts quoting that one thread that Bram like to read too, sometimes.

Bram kisses Simon again. This time, they don’t stop.

 

 

 


	6. What if they did meet in a dark room?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Jacques decided to follow through on Jacques' ridiculous idea to meet in a dark room. They have rules, to make sure they won't see or hear each other. Will that be enough to not recognize each other?

_This was probably the stupidest idea ever._

Simon knows it was his idea. Meeting up in a dark room. When Blue sort of agreed to it, Simon jokingly tried to find a dark room. His obvious pick was the actual dark room, from the photography department.

And then the most ridiculous thing happened. BLUE SAID YES. Why would he do that?

Simon’s stomach is in knots. In a few minutes, Blue will be in the room with him.

Simon breathes in and lists the rules they agreed on in his head, just to keep his mind busy.

  * Jacques would be there ten minutes after the beginning of school.
  * Jacques would switch the ‘room in use’ light outside so people would know the door shouldn’t be open.
  * Jacques would sit against the wall, next to the door, on the opposite site of the opening.
  * Blue would arrive five minutes later.
  * Blue would make sure that the light is off before closing the door so he wouldn’t be able to see Jacques.
  * Blue would shut the door, leaving them in the dark, and then go sit next to Jacques.
  * They wouldn’t use anything that produces light.
  * They wouldn’t speak.
  * They could leave at any time, but the other one would have to wait two minutes before leaving too.



**This was the stupidest idea ever.**

Bram doesn’t understand why he agreed to do this. They both knew it was a joke to begin with, so how did it become an actual plan?

If he is honest about it, Bram knows that he is desperate to be with Jacques, but he is always terrified for him to know who he is. On paper (or on screen), this plan was a perfect solution to both his issues. In real life, however, as he is about to enter the room, he knows it was ridiculous.

He could still back down. Not go in.

**Greenfeld, you don’t have to do this. You can turn around and go meet your friends at the lunch table. But… Jacques is waiting on the other side of this door.**

This thought enough for Bram to make up his mind and enter the room. As agreed, all the lights are switched off in there, and Jacques is hidden by the open door. Bram breathes in, then out, walks in and closes the door.

_This is it. This is now. It’s him. It has to be. Anyone else would have switched on the light. And they wouldn’t walk around me and sit against the wall… Okay Spier, don’t freak out._

They just stay there, sitting still in the dark. It is a weird thing to do, and if you look at things objectively, absolutely nothing was happening. And yet, so much was happening. Both were experiencing a maelstrom of emotions.

_I can’t believe he’s here. Even when he said he would come, I thought he would back down last minute. This crazy meet up is so not a Blue thing to do._

**I can’t believe I’m doing this. It is crazy. I am pretty sure that by the end of this, he will for sure know who I am. But maybe that’s why I’m doing it. I can’t seem to find the courage to tell him who I am, so I am forcing fate, hoping that things will work out on their own.**

_It was my idea, so it’s probably up to me to be brave, now… Come on Spier, you can do this!_

Simon rubs his hand on his jean to make sure it isn’t sweaty, and slides it on the floor until it brushes Bram. Then he stops. He doesn’t know what is and isn’t okay, and in the dark, he can’t read the other boys body language.

He sighs in relief when Bram intertwines their fingers. Simon squeezes their palms together briefly, and Bram start rubbing his thumb against the back of Simon’s hand.

It’s silly really. Nora sometimes does that to Simon when she is half asleep in front of the TV during Family Night. And it’s nice, sure, but that’s it. But right now, it’s not nice. It’s something else entirely. It’s not even butterflies. It’s like electricity sparks from the touch and spreads through his entire body. Simon hopes he can feel this forever.

Bram can’t see anything. He is a nervous person and he isn’t entirely comfortable being deprive of a sense as major as sight. Still, he never felt more alive.

_I’m touching Blue. He is a real person. His hand is so soft, warm and big. It makes me feel safe. I could be happy just holding this hand in silence forever._

**Who would have thought that this anonymous post would bring me here? Holding hands with the kind, cute, grammatical, funny Jacques. I am so happy now. I still think that the entire thing is a stupid idea that will blow up in our faces at some point, but somehow, it’s worth it.**

They hold hand for another minute before Simon moves it slightly higher to touch Bram’s arm.

Bram stands up swiftly and pulls Simon up with him. Simon’s hands are back on Bram’s arms and Bram touches his shoulders.

 _So… definitely_ not _Cal Price. He is much taller. And those arm muscles… he is athletic. It feels like lean well defined muscles. So probably not one of the jocks from the football team. I’m happy with that, none of them seems smart enough to be Blue._

**He is smaller than me. Not enough that it would be ridiculous. Just enough that he would fit perfectly in my arms. Okay, that was a weird thought.**

_Can I move my hands from his arms? Okay, maybe if I move slowly towards his chest, then he can stop me if he wants to._

**Oh, okay, we’re moving hands. We are… exploring?**

Simon lets his hands explore Bram’s torso for a minute.

_Yep, he is athletic. I still don’t really know what he looks like, but I already know he’s hot. Which, on second thought, might not be a good thing. Because even though I don’t especially have complexes, ‘hot’ isn’t a word I would use to describe me._

Bram brings his hands up to Simon’s face.

**Glasses. Bed hair. I know I am supposed to kill that idea that Jacques writes like Simon speaks, because it probably comes from my crush on Simon Spier. But right now, Jacques also feels like Simon. It is very hard not to picture him.**

Simon’s hand moves up the other boy’s neck when Bram grabs his hands, preventing them to go any higher.

_It doesn’t feel like hand holding. Does he not want me to touch his hair? Why? Are they out of the ordinary? Afro? Dreadlocks? Shaved on one side? Ponytail? Bold?_

**I can’t let him do this. He’ll just… know.**

_I don’t think I ever wanted anything more than touch his hair. But he doesn’t want me to and being here is already a huge step for him._

Simon tries to move his hands back down, but Bram isn’t letting go.

**Come on, Greenfeld. Today is the day to do brave things and be a little crazy. And Jacques – Simon? – is a little oblivious. He might not realize anything.**

Bram moves Simon’s hands an inch higher and lets go. Simon freezes for a second, and then moves his hand higher, finally reaching Bram’s curls.

_Oh. Simon, you stupid dick. How can you be mad at the world for making straight the norm, and just assume that Blue would be white?_

Bram breathes a bit faster, anxious for any reaction. He could feel Simon’s fingers stopping for a second, and he doesn’t know if it’s from surprise or disappointment. But then his hands keep moving again. One stays in his hair, playing with his curls, the other coming down on his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks gently.

_Okay, think, Spier. He just gave you a massive clue. There aren’t that many athletic black students in our year._

Simon makes a quick list in his head, but there is one name that keeps popping back.

_Realistically, I would be happy with anyone. It’s Blue and he’s perfect regardless, but… please be Bram. If I am as lucky as I feel today… please be Bram._

Bram cups Simon’s face too and the moment stretches.

**He’s so close. I could just reach and know what kissing him feels like.**

_I know I joked about kissing him in the dark room when we emailed, but now I really want to._

They both start breathing a bit faster, and they both notice the other boy’s reaction. Bram moves a bit closer, and Simon can feel his breath on his face. It is so intoxicating.

**I can’t kiss him if he doesn’t know who I am, right? And I shouldn’t if I’m not sure who he is. This is a terrible idea.**

_I don’t care if he is Bram or not. He is Blue, he is here, and I want this so badly._

**Maybe it doesn’t matter that we still can’t put names on who we are. Maybe this moment, our first kiss, should simply be between Blue and Jacques.**

Bram leans forward and Simon meets him halfway.

**_Holy shit._ **

It is a very chaste kiss, but it still makes both their heads spin a little bit. It leaves them wanting more. Not more kissing in the dark on school ground during their lunch hour – although, they wouldn’t be opposed to the idea – but more, altogether.

Simon wants to know Blue’s name for sure, and he wants to hold his hand out of this room, even if not in public. But Simon doesn’t want to push Blue further. This was a massive step for him, and it already led them beyond Simon’s wildest dreams.

Bram wants to tell Garrett about that boy, who might be, probably is, Simon Spier, that he is so in love with next time Garrett talks about Leah Burke. Bram wants to introduce Jacques to his parents. Bram wants to meet Jacques’ dog. Bram isn’t afraid anymore.

“Simon?” he whispers against the other boy’s lips.

Simon’s entire body shivers. It is one word, but it rocks his world upside-down.

 _What? After being so adamant in our emails that we could only do this if we followed the rules,_ he _is the one breaking them? Why? Is he telling me that he’s ready to move on from the emails? To take this out of this room?_

**He is not moving. He is not speaking. Why? Did I guess wrong? Did I just ruin everything? Why did you have to open your mouth, Greenfeld?**

_He said my name. He guessed who I am. And he is still here. He is interested. If we are honest with ourselves, we knew if could happened. I know I hoped it would._

**Please, Jacques, say something. Do something. Even if it’s just walking out. End this hellish moment. Please.**

_And his voice… this deep, sexy, familiar voice._

Bram starts shaking slightly. He is so close to giving up when Simon whispers back: “Bram.”

 **Oh thank goodness. It** is **him. He is still there. He guessed it’s me. Of course he would. If I’m being honest, there wasn't any other possible development.**

Simon reaches the light switch and the room is suddenly bathed in a softened red light.

_Well, that certainly sets a mood._

**_He is so beautiful._ **

The two boys spend a few minutes in silence, looking at each other. It feels so new. Like they had never seen each other before. They probably never looked enough to properly see before.

Simon is about to speak but Bram puts a finger on his lips. It is the most sensorial experience of his life, and he wants to enjoy it a bit longer. He just got his sight back, and he wants to look at Simon in silence a while longer.

_He’s right. We only had words for so long. Maybe we don’t need them anymore. Maybe we just need the rest for a little while._

**Oh, God, his smile… I could look at that smile forever.**

_I never saw that smile on Bram. Usually, he just has this soft, shy smile. Right now, it’s big, and wide, and happy._

The two boys jump when the bell rings. Apparently, there is still a world out there. Bram laughs, startled.

“I guess we have to go.”

“I guess so. Do you want to go first?”

“No. I want us to go together.”

“People might see.”

“Let them.” And Bram leans in. It is a quick kiss, because of timing issues, but it is also the first kiss between Bram and Simon. It’s sweet and electric, and leaving them wanting more again.

Bram holds his hand towards Simon.

_Are we ready?_

**I don’t know. Let’s find out.**

Simon takes Bram’s hand, and they exit the dark room together.


	7. What if Blue and Jacques had terrible timing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue wants Jacques. Jacques wants Blue. It should be very straight-forward, but they cant get their timing right.

I look at the clock, and I know I made a mistake. Simon wanted me to go to the carnival. He was waiting for me. Maybe he is still waiting for me. But there is no way I will make it before it shuts down, now.

What is it about Simon Spier that make me want him so much, and yet terrifies me to death? So many times, these last weeks, I have been on the verge of telling him everything. And every time, I froze. Not that I can talk to him anyway, but even in our emails.

When I think about it, it’s easy. ‘Jacques, I’m Bram Greenfeld, from lunch, and I am in love with you.’ But when I have to do it, I chicken out, and my fingers type something else, nearly on their own. Like a cheap comment on things working out the way he wanted them to. Because apparently, I’m that kind of person.

The weekend started great, with Garrett coming with me to the play whenever I asked, just so I can stare at Simon. I mean… he is gorgeous any day. But the eyeliner…

This evening, however, not so great. So, I do the only reasonable thing left to do: I go to bed and hope I will soon fall into a dreamless sleep.

 

In English, Monday morning, Simon looks his usual self. Not like someone who got stood up the days before. I am not entirely sure what to think about it. Of course, I wouldn’t want him to be sad, especially not because of me, but if I had been waiting for Jacques and he didn’t show, I would have been soul-crushed.

Abby, who can’t help but get involved in everyone else’s business, gets me out of my misery at lunch by asking the question I couldn’t. “So, Si, did you find your mystery boy yesterday?”

Simon blushes slightly. “No.”

“Oh no! You looked like a lost puppy!”

“Uhm… Thanks, Abby, for that shameful image that is now carved in my brain,” he answers.

“For someone who got stood up, you don’t look too upset,” Nick comments.

Simon looks at me and Garrett, obviously a bit embarrassed to talk about it in front of us, but he answers anyway. “I was upset. I stayed until they shut down, but he didn’t show. Or maybe he did, and I couldn’t find him. I was late, so it’s probably my fault. But then I bumped into Cal, and he managed to cheer me up. It’s not the evening I wanted, but it wasn’t a complete loss.”

I’m pretty sure that being stabbed hurts less than this. And I know, _I know_ , that I brought this on myself. But this thought doesn’t help. At all.

“So, you and Cal, huh?” Abby asks. Right now, she’s probably the person I like the least.

“It’s not like that.” Simon answers.

“Yet.” Leah smirks. Well. Abby is not at the bottom of my list anymore.

 

When I get home, I have a text from an unknown number. When I open it, my heart skips a beat. It’s from Simon.

_Hi Blue. I found your note. I don’t know if you saw my email or not, I don’t know if you came to the carnival and we missed each other (I know I was late), or if you never showed, but I want you to know that I was there, and I waited. I’m still waiting. Whenever you’re ready. Jacques._

I am shaking. I feel like I could cry. This text means the world. But, for some twisted reason, I keep thinking about Cal Price, and how he keeps popping up. Simon thought he was me. Or I was him. I’m not sure about the semantics. And when we were supposed to meet, he was the one who put a smile on Simon’s face.

And that not only hurts, but also makes me freeze.

I put the phone down. I shouldn’t answer back when I’m in this mindset.

I grab my school bag and try to drown myself in homework. To be fair, it is somewhat effective.

 

But the week keeps getting worse. I am not sure what’s happening in Simon’s life, but he seems to be spending a lot of time with Cal Price. On Friday, he even skips lunch with us to go sit with Cal and other students from drama club. Then Abby informs us that they have plan on Saturday.

Apparently, Simon claims it’s not a date, but I have to agree with Abby on this one. Going out with someone who is openly interested in you on a Saturday night is a date.

I waited too long. And now, I don’t know how to start a text or an email. I broke the chain of communication between us, and I’m not sure how to fix it. Can I fix it before tomorrow? Before Simon goes on that ‘not a date’ with Cal Price.

After school, I talk about an essay with my history teacher for fifteen minutes. But being Friday, when I leave the classroom, it is already a ghost school. I have some books to get in my locker, but in the corridor, I see Cal and Simon. They are too far for me to hear what they are saying, but Simon looks subdued. They don’t even notice me.

I can feel my entire body freeze. They are too close. Much too close. I am so close to say something. Do something. Just get over there and ruin the moment. But I hesitate and it happens. Suddenly, their lips are touching. And the thing that kills me, that makes me feel like someone put a knife through my heart, is that Simon leant in. He is the one who initiated the kiss.

 

I guess tomorrow will be a date after all.

 

I leave without my books.

 

It was the wakeup call I needed. I can’t lose Jacques. I can’t lose Simon. Not like this. I can’t let him go on that date. I don’t go in my car, and I walk back towards the school. This is when I see Simon walking out of the building, alone.

I don’t think my heart has ever beaten this fast. I swear it is ready to burst out of my chest. But I can’t back down. I can’t be a coward anymore. It is now or never. I am getting my boy back. I am getting Jacques. I am getting Simon.

I see him walking towards the parking lot, his perfect messy hair softly moving with each step. I usually find him cute. Today, he is breath-taking.

He smiles at me as I walk towards him. “Hi Bram. What are you still doing here?”

“I was trying to get a head-start on the History essay.”

Simon’s smile gets slightly wider.

“That is so you. It was given less than three hours ago.” But there isn’t any teasing in his eyes. I feel like he gets me, and suddenly I am not afraid anymore. I can’t remember what seemed so insurmountable. And I can’t understand what took me so long.

“Simon, do you have a minute? I would like to talk to you.”

Simon just stops, right there in the middle of the empty parking lot. He seems a bit confused, but also amused by the situation. “Really? What about?”

“I… It’s me. I’m ready.”

And suddenly, I’m nervous again. This is it. This is the moment I imagined so many times before. Simon and I finally getting rid of the Jacques and Blue masks we have been wearing.

“Ready? Ready for wh…” But the question dies in Simon’s mouth as his eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. “Blue…” he whispers.

My heart skips a beat as he says it, and I take a step forward just as Simon takes a step back.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

My heart skips another beat, but for a completely different reason. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s your timing? Of all the moments you could have chosen to reveal yourself, this is the one you chose?”

“Simon, I…”

“No! You don’t get to do this! It’s been months, Bram. I’ve been waiting for you for months, you were the one who kept refusing to meet in person, and now that someone else is interested, you suddenly want me too?”

“It’s not like that!” Things are not going the way they were supposed to.

“How is it like, then? You and me… it was the most important thing in my life for so long. It was like… you took the scared boy that was hiding inside of me, took his hand, and brought him into the world. But then you found out who I was, and you stopped emailing me. Not the way you used to. And when I poured my heart out to you, you gave me nothing.”

“When I found out who you were, you thought I was someone different! You thought I was Cal Price, didn’t you? I guess things _did_ turn out the way you wanted to.”

“Don’t you say that to me. I know I hurt you when I guessed wrong, but the moment I knew I was wrong, Cal just vanished. There was you, and only you. You made every other boy, real or not, disappear. But when I needed you, you pulled away from me. And just then, something broke between us. You didn’t want to meet, you didn’t email anymore… What did I have left? After sending you that last email, I found your note. And it got me hoping that maybe… but you didn’t show at the carnival. And you didn’t reply to my text. So I had to take the hint. Whereas Cal… He was there for me. Always. We shared a moment when none of us were out, he reached out to me when I got outed by Martin, he even came out then. He did, Bram, and you didn’t. You didn’t come out, and you didn’t talk to me either. Neither Blue, nor you. And Cal showed up at the carnival and we had a good time. Then we met again, and again, and… I had to realise that you weren’t going to come through for me, but there was a cute boy that was there and who wanted me.”

“Simon…” But he doesn’t want to hear it. He just continues talking, ripping my heart out of my chest and stabbing it with every word.

“Cal and I, we have a good thing going. It feels right. I’m not a secret, he is not a secret, he wants me, and he has been there. It’s easy. But with you… You said you were ready, but I’m not sure that’s true. The timing feels off. If you’re doing this because of me, it is a bad idea. I shouldn’t be the reason you do this. This… coming out… it should be your moment. Your thing. And it should come because you’re ready, and not out of fear, or because you feel pressured. And even if I decided to go out with you now, I would always feel like it all started because of spite. I couldn’t handle that.”

“You’re saying no.” It’s not like I have just realised that. I knew the moment he took a step back. I simply need to say it at loud. I need to start processing this reality.

“Bram… You and I… I think it could have been great. But our timings were just off. You need more time, and I want to respect that. I think that Jacques and Blue served a purpose, and now… Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. For everything you’ve done to me. I was so close to loving you. It was just too hard to love someone who didn’t feel real.”

It feels like my stomach is sinking, like my heart is shattering, like my throat is closing… Simon is there. He’s just there. But he never felt more far away. I know there must exist some magic words I could say that would change his mind. That would show him how much he means to me, convince him that I really am ready, for me more than for him, and prove that we are meant to be. I know such words exist. But I just can’t find them. Because I can never find my words when he is there and looks at me. Why did I do this? Why didn’t I just email or text back? Why did I wait so long? Why…

I can feel the tears falling down my cheeks. The sight seems to break Simon’s heart a little.

“I’m sorry Bram. I just want to see where this thing with Cal goes. I…”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

But it’s not fine. I don’t get it. It just hurts. It hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

We just stare at each other for a couple more minutes before Simon turns around and leaves.

 

I don’t know how I made it to my room. I barely remember the drive.

As soon as I close the door, I collapse on the floor and start crying. Not a couple of tears like in the parking lot, but real sobs and cries as if I finally let go of all the pain I had been keeping inside. The pain of being different in a world that is still not open enough, the pain of being replaced by my father, the pain of being so undecided and cowardly, but mostly the pain of losing my first love.

I know I’m not the first person with a broken heart. I know I will eventually be okay. Right now, however, I have no idea how one survives such a thing.

If it weren’t for Cal Price… If it weren’t for my hesitation…

But that’s what it is. Simon said it himself. We could have been great. But I took too long, and he decided not to wait. I have to be okay with it, even though I am not. I have to come to terms with the fact that, in the end, what Blue and Jacques shared simply wasn’t enough for the real world.

Maybe if they had better timing…


	8. What if Simon found out first?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is oblivious. But there are just too many clues. Blue has to be Bram Greenfeld, right?

This is both the best and the worst piece of information I ever held.

Bram Greenfeld is Blue. Cute Bram, of the soft eyes and the soccer calves, is Blue of the grammatical and flirtatious emails.

And I did **not** see that coming.

But there have been all those little things. Information from Blue’s emails that I would find in Bram. Blue’s family is kind of unique. Bram never talks about his family. Or maybe he does, we are not that close. But he, or Garrett, or even Nick, sometimes let some details slip. Like how it is sometimes confusing to be brought up between two religions. Or spending time with his dad in a hotel for Hanukkah. His dad being remarried and his stepmother being pregnant.

And I don’t know why he would choose ‘Blue’, but ‘Green’ is obvious. And the 118, I checked with Leah, pretending I couldn’t wait for another birthday cake, matches Bram’s birthday.

It could all be coincidences. But I mean… could it?

So, yes, I am now 99.9% sure that Blue is Bram Greenfeld. That’s good enough for me to start spiraling.

 

This is amazing for the following reasons (yep, I made a list):

  * I finally know who Blue is.
  * He is someone I know and like.
  * He is ~~cute~~. He is ~~hot~~. He is ~~beautiful~~. He is handsome. All four actually apply.
  * He is smart. I am in his English class, so I witnessed it many times.
  * He is funny. I am not entirely sure about that, because he never talks to me, but I always had this theory. And now I have an extensive list of emails to back it up.
  * He is loyal.



 

This is a total disaster for the following reasons:

  * I finally know who Blue is.
  * He is someone I know and like.
  * He is ~~cute~~. He is ~~hot~~. He is ~~beautiful~~. He is handsome. All four actually apply.
  * He is smart. I am in his English class, so I witnessed it many times.
  * He is funny. I am not entirely sure about that, because he never talks to me, but I always had this theory. And now I have an extensive list of emails to back it up.
  * He is loyal.



 

Yes. It’s the same list. Bram is the perfect Blue. Don’t get me wrong, Blue would be perfect no matter who he is. But Bram freaking Greenfeld. He is so perfect he’s not even in my league. I am pretty sure that Blue is into Jacques. But there is no way that Bram will be into Simon.

I know that the sensible thing to do would be to give up. Blue is an amazing friend to have, and maybe that’s enough. But I can’t. because each time I get an email from him, my heart races. And when I read it, I fall a little bit more in love with him. Every single time.

I have to make Blue fall in love with Jacques enough that Bram will see that when he looks at me.

 

I didn’t really look at Bram before. Now, it’s like he’s a magnet for my eyes. I have to keep myself from staring too long or too often. It is especially hard at lunch. Not only because he sits right in front of me, but also because Abby and Leah notice everything. I feel like I’m breaking the law in front of a SWAT team.

It is weird, because now that I am looking at Bram more often (and notice his slight freckles, his dramatic eyebrows, his full lips, his… focus, Spier), I seem to catch his eyes a lot. As if he is looking at me more often than I ever realized. I try not to read into it, because Bram is a quiet person and Blue pays attention to things. So, he would probably look at people more than the rest of us do. But now that I know he is Blue, I can’t help but notice, and hope a little bit that it means something.

“Simon, are you coming too?” Abby asks.

“What?”

“Nick’s game, tomorrow. You’re coming too, right?”

“Nick’s game?” Garrett repeats. “Excuse me, are me and Bram extras in this story?”

“Bram and I.” Bram corrects, and it twists something in me. Am I going to get turned on by grammatical correctness from now on?

“Yes, Bram, that is exactly why you should be upset. Me using everyday spoken English instead of proper ‘my dad in an English teacher’ English. Not Abby calling it ‘Nick’s game’.” Bram chuckles and it is not the first time I hear him laugh, but it feels like it, and it sounds wonderful. “I would like to point out,” Garrett continues, “that in spite of him correcting my grammar, if we are going to call it anyone’s game, we are going to call it Bram’s game. Because he is our best player, and he scored more goals than any other player this season.” Bram blushes and looks down. He looks so cute that I can feel my heart squeeze.

“Nah, it’s fine. Definitely my game.” Nick replies. “This time, I’ll score more than Bram. That’s my personal target.” Bram laughs again, more openly this time, and it’s just. Wow.

Okay. I need to breathe. Focus. Am I being obvious? Abby and Leah didn’t seem to notice. Bram isn’t looking at me anymore (which is convenient but also very sad), so I think I’m good.

“So, Si, are you going to come and witness Nick achieve his target?” Leah asks.

“I’m going to come,” I answer. “I’m just not sure about the second part of your question.” Everyone laughs, even Nick, and – I swear to God – Bram WINKS AT ME. I could die now. Both of happiness and embarrassment. My cheeks are probably matching the color of the fire alarm on the wall.

 

Whenever I was dragged to a soccer game (because I try once in a while to be a decent friend), I always focus on either Nick or my conversation with Leah (and more recently Abby too). Tonight, however, I try to expand my world and to focus on the entire game. Every single player on both teams.

It doesn’t work, though, because I my eyes keep finding Bram. He looks so powerful and so gracious at the same time. He is playing soccer, but he could be dancing. Leah and Abby are talking next to me, but I barely listen. I am too entranced by that one boy on the field. The one that’s not just athletic, but also smart, kind, funny and perfect.

Bram scores a goal and the crowd cheers nearly as loud as my heart beats. I clap politely and Leah makes fun of me for being neither into sport, nor a supportive friend.

That’s fine. I don’t want to be Bram’s friend.

 

The game is nearly over now. The score is 2-1 for us. Nick tried his best, but he hasn’t scored one goal yet. Bram has, obviously, and that boy that I’m pretty sure is called Gary, and who could be attractive if he wasn’t sharing a football pitch with Blue, did as well. No idea about the other team, because Bram is playing forward, not defence, so I was not looking.

Everyone is getting a bit excited, and Bram is up there, on his way for his second goal. We can all feel it. Even me, who knows so little about sports. Two things happen roughly at the same time. Bram shoots the ball, and a player from the other team (I mean… I don’t know him and he wears a different colour jersey. I’m not _that_ sports illiterate, thank you) tries to stop him. There is this massive thump and the crowd is divided in two.

The ones who followed the ball start cheering, because it’s another goal. From Bram. Sorry Nick.

The ones who remained focused on the players gasp. Because Bram literally flies off and his body rolls on the ground several times.

There is this one second when everything goes quiet. No one moves or speaks. The first one to come back to its senses is Garrett who runs towards Bram. But Bram, who isn’t just an amazing mind, but an amazing body apparently, is back up before his best friend can reach him, and is waving off the coach whilst showing a thumb up to the referee.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Man, he is indestructible, isn’t he?” Leah asks.

The referee blows his whistle, shows a yellow card that probably means something because people are reacting to it, and does something with his arms. Then all the players start moving on the field.

“What’s happening?” Simon asks.

“Free kick,” Abby answers as if it was enough of answer.

“And what might a free kick be, Abby?”

“You’re not into anything that involves sweaty boys, are you?” My mind goes in the gutter right away, but I don’t comment. “Basically, Bram has another shot at scoring.”

“Why is the other team lining up?”

Abby turns to Leah. “Do you want to take this one?”

“No, I’m good. There is like five minutes left, Si. Just look at Bram be amazing, or phase out again.” I’ll take the first option, thank you very much.

And Bram is. Amazing, I mean. Because he scores his free kick. If that’s even the right terminology.

Technically, we would have won even before that, but the crowd cheers and starts chanting Bram’s name as if he just won the game.

After the end of the game, his teammates go back to hug and congratulate him. He is definitely the star of the game. I even sort of feel bad for Nick and Gary for a second.

“Come on,” Abby says, “let’s go congratulate the winners.”

We leave the bleachers a go towards the team. Garrett and Nick walk towards us before Bram extracts himself from the group hug and joins us. He arrives just as Leah says. “So, Nick, nice try.”

Bram chuckles and jokingly elbows Nick as he starts drinking nearly an entire bottle of water, leaning against the fence, right next to where I stand.

“Bram, you were amazing!” Abby says. “And that body slam… are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Brammy’s made of a mix of Batman, Superman and adamantium.” Garrett says, rubbing Bram’s hair.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” Bram says, rolling his eyes.

“Bram-the-man?”

“No.”

“Abraham?”

“Neither.”

“Abe?”

“Please, stop talking.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to Bram before. His cheeks are still red from the game, he has freckles sprinkled all over his nose, he is sweaty but still smells so good, he has a happy sparkle in his eyes, probably from the win, he has a half-smile, as if he is too shy or self-conscious to fully embrace his pride and happiness, but I cant still see his perfect teeth. Even his eyelashes are gorgeous. Since I noticed them at lunch, it’s sort of all I can see when I look at his face. His breathing is coming back to normal, but is still faster than it usually is.

The only thing I want to do right now is grab his shirt, pull his body against mine, and kiss him. Not a shy one like in PG romantic comedies. A messy one, with tongue, and wandering hands. The kind you should not have in public, but you get a free pass when your boyfriend just won an important soccer game. Match? Whatever.

But Bram is not my boyfriend. Bram is not out. I am not out. And Bram probably isn’t the kind of person to enjoy exuberant PDAs, free pass or not, soccer-star-hero-of-the-evening or not.

So, instead, I congratulate him and shake his hand.

His eyes go wide, and everyone stares at me funny. But he laughs, thank me, shake my hand back, and head to the changing room with Nick and Garrett.

Way to go, Simon. He is so gonna fall in love in you, for that one time when you awkwardly shook his hand after a soccer game. Match. Competition?

I need to have stereotypical bonding time with my dad and ask him about sport.

 

“So, we were talking in the changing room,” Nick says as he enters my car.

“Do we want to know about that conversation?” Leah asks.

“Yes, Burke, you do, because Garrett’s parents are out of town, Bram is a soccer god, and it’s Friday night. See where I’m going with this?”

“I’m way too tired for a party,” Leah whines.

“It’s not going to be a real party. It’s just a get together. The six of us. It was supposed to be just us three, but I got you all invited as well.”

“Somehow,” Leah says, “I have a feeling that this was more about spending the evening with Abby than us.” I am a bit surprised, because there is a smile in her voice, and not her usual bitterness when she mentions Nick and Abby.

“A bit. But you and Spier are still my number one people.” Leah doesn’t have a witty come back. I think she wanted, or even needed, to hear that.

 

My parents agreed very quickly to let me go. I think my dad was just over the moon that I am going to a ‘sports celebration’. His words. I guess it is an accurate description, but it’s not what I would call it. Then again, I won’t tell them that I’m going partly because I can stare at Bram Greenfeld for hours, trying to decide if I should tell him I’m Jacques. Especially not after my dad asked me if there would be girls at the party.

 

I am pretty deep in my thoughts at the party and I operate on autopilot mode. I want to tell Bram who I am. I really do. But it doesn’t feel like a good idea if I don’t know what he wants from this. I’m not even sure what I want from this. Maybe I should come out first. At least to my friends and family.

I don’t know. It’s all confusing, and terrifying, but it dictates so much of my life. Right now, I should be enjoying a nice evening with my friends, but my mind keeps going back to one sentence my dad said before I left. How ridiculous is that? Is there a heterosexual equivalent to that?

Everyone laugh as Nick is explaining how the victory was also – and according to his story mainly – thanks to him. I excuse myself and got to the kitchen to get a drink (no alcohol. Told you Mom. Even though you clearly didn’t believe me).

I take my time there. I feel out of step with the rest of them. It is the first time I hang out with Bram and Garrett. I want Bram to find me amazing for obvious reasons, but I also would like Garrett to like me. Somehow, it feels important to get the Best Friend Validation. But that’s not happening tonight, is it?

Then again, today is the day _I shook his hand_. So, there’s that. Well done Spier.

I hear footsteps and turn around. It’s Bram. He smiles softly at me, and that does something to me.

“Give me one?” he asks, pointing at the sodas. I oblige and his fingers brush against mine as he grabs it. There is this weird expression passing on his face that I can’t read. I don’t even know if it was a positive or negative feeling.

We both lean against the kitchen counter and drink quietly. It is not an uncomfortable silence, and it is actually quite nice to be able to just _be_ with someone.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and there is genuine concern in his voice.

“Yes, sure. Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re very quiet. It’s so… un-you.”

I smile at the idea that Bram paid attention to me enough to notice when I’m out of character. I don’t know if he is just someone nice, or if Bram is interested in me.

It is an odd thought. Part of me would be not only flattered that Bram looks at me this way, but also happy that Blue and I are connecting in _and_ offline. But part of me is weirdly jealous of myself. The worst part being that I don’t know which me I’m jealous off. Would I rather have Bram like Simon or Jacques better?

“I’m fine. It’s just… been a weird day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The offer is so tempting. I know I will email Blue about it, but I could just _tell him_ , right now. See if we can talk the same way face to face. But it is still too frightening of a prospect. So I let it go.

“No, thanks. Don’t worry about it. We should be talking about you.”

“Me? Why?”

“You were amazing on that field.”

“Thank you.” He blushes slightly. Or maybe a lot. Maybe his complexion just helps him conceal his shyness.

“No, really. I’m sure you know how great you were, winning the game, getting back up like a trooper, and all, but I wanted to tell you how fantastic I found you.”

“Well, you gave me a handshake.”

I can feel my whole face heating up. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why I did that.” Even though I do, but I can’t really tell him that I was trying not to kiss him.

“Don’t worry. That was… nice. As for winning the game… You do realize it’s a team sport, right?”

Right. I vaguely remember trying to be interest in the other twenty-one other players. “I vaguely remember Nick mentioning something about being a huge part of the winning process,” I tease.

Bram gives me a big happy smile, and it flusters me. This boy, I swear…

“Should we go back?” he asks. “Or should we be worried that Abby and Nick are being too nauseous?” That makes me smile. It is entirely thanks to him that I now understand the difference between nauseous and nauseated.

“I think we’re fine,” I answer. “I didn’t hear Leah pretend to be nauseated.” Bram raises an eyebrow, visibly impressed that I used the appropriate vocabulary.

“Alright. Let’s risk it.”

 

After talking to him, even if it was about nothing, I feel much better. I shouldn’t be surprised. Blue always had that effect on me. Finally, my mind is with my friends and not with my dad.

“Let’s play a game,” Abby says.

“I thought you didn’t like games,” Nick comments.

“She doesn’t mean video-games,” Leah retorts. Nick looks disappointed; as if Abby suddenly liking video-games would have been the highlight of his teenage years. “What do you want to play, then?” he asks Abby.

“I don’t know. Something fun that will get us to know each other better. Like… Truth or Dare?”

“How old are we, five?” Nick asks.

“Secrets to hide?” Garrett asks. “Or are you afraid to find something out? Like that even Simon likes Bram better?” I choke on my own saliva and Bram looks at me funny. My sex-appeal is off the charts, today.

“I’m not playing Truth or Dare,” Leah says. “I am not going to do anything I don’t feel like doing just because one of you said: ‘I dare you to’, and I don’t think any of you should either. And we all know that if someone doesn’t want to answer a question, they will just lie. I just don’t see the point.”

“Well, Burke, you’re just a little ball of fun, aren’t you?” Garrett asks.

“I think she has a valid point,” Bram says.

“Of course you do.” Garrett rolls his eyes at Bram, but then they share a knowing look. Does Garrett know that Bram has secrets?

“Fine,” Abby says, not picking on it. “No Truth or Dare. But let’s all agree to something, right now.” We all wait, but he doesn’t develop.

“You do realize that we won’t say yes until you tell us what we are agreeing to, right?” I ask.

“Let’s all do something we are afraid of.”

“Like what?” Nick asks. “Space Mountain?”

“No one over eight is afraid of Space Mountain, Nick,” Leah teases.

“And anyway, no, not like Space Mountain. Let’s do, or commit to do, something that we really want to do, but we haven’t done yet because we are too afraid to. You know, like… doing an open mike night, or auditioning for The Voice, or reconnecting with someone we haven’t talked to in years, or… you know, something that could change our lives, but that we don’t do because we let our insecurities hold us back.”

“Yeah, so Space Mountain,” Nick insists. We all laugh.

“Yeah, I’m up for that,” Leah agrees. “I mean Abby’s idea, obviously. Not Space Mountain.”

“Who goes first?” Abby asks. And even though it was her idea, I can feel that she doesn’t want to go first.

I would go first if the thing holding me back wasn’t so life changing. It is my perfect occasion to come out to my friends. But I just can’t. Maybe because I don’t know Garrett enough. Or because Blue is here, and it feels a bit much. Or because I have known Nick and Leah for so long that is feels like too much of a change.

“Fine,” Bram says after everyone stayed silent for a few minutes. “I’ll go first.” Abby looks at him with even more hope than me in her eyes. But Bram doesn’t say anything. He just gets his phone out and starts typing.

“Bram… what are you doing?”

“Something I really want to do, that could change my life, but that I haven’t done yet because I let my insecurities hold me back. I thought it’s what we were doing.”

“And aren’t you going to share with us?”

“No,” he answers with a lopsided smile as he presses ‘send’ and puts the phone away. “We said we would do it. We never said we had to share.” A second ago, I would have given anything to know what he was typing and to whom. I don’t anymore. Because my phone just buzzed in my pocket. Fortunately, no one noticed. I am almost shaking, knowing that I could just reach for the phone, and know.

There is still the very unlikely possibility that just as Bram sent something from his phone, I received a spam email. I swear I’ll burn my phone.

“Bram, come on!” Nick protests.

“Is it a message to a special someone?” Abby asks.

“Maybe,” he answers, but we can all see on his face that it’s a yes.

“Bram, is there a girl?” Abby shrieks and I cringe. “Bram… we need to get you a girlfriend,” Abby continues, and I want to murder her. Not just for putting him on the spot when he is still in the closet, but also – mainly – because she wants to set Bram up. With… not me. Well with me, but not in her mind.

“I’m good, Abby, thanks.”

“Why not? You just texted her! And picture this. You win your next game, and I mean just you, because let’s face it, you score most of the goals – sorry guys – you are all excited about your great victory and endorphins, or whatever, she runs into your arms, you lift her up, you spin, and you kiss her like she is your prize. Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“Yes. So nice. I think I definitely should get girlfriends to enact your little fantasy, and not because I’m into girls.” Bram answers. Garrett snorts.

“Oh, come on, mock me as much as you want, but it does sound nice, doesn’t it?”

“No, Abby, you’re not hearing me. I’m not into girls.”

The room gets really silent as we all realize that Bram just came out to us. Judging from Garrett still focuses on eating crisps, he already knew. Bram just casually did what I couldn’t not even five minutes ago.

“Really?” Nick says, obviously out of his comfort zone. “That’s great, buddy. I didn’t mean buddy… And I didn’t mean great. I know it’s normal. I didn’t mean normal.”

“Nick, stop talking.” Leah says and he does. “So, Nick doesn’t like new situations, but he’s not really an idiot. He’ll find real words in a minute. But thanks for telling us.”

“Sorry,” Nick starts again. “I just don’t know if I’m supposed to make a big deal out of it, or not.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bram answers. “I know you are not the most articulate person.”

Nick smiles at the joke and turns to Garrett. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Bram’s my boy.” He simply answers, and I can’t help but wonder how much he knows. Does he know about Jacques? Am I important enough that Bram talks about me to his best friend?

“Still,” Abby insists. “We then need to get you a _boyfriend_ so you can kiss _him_ after winning the next game.” Bram smiles softly but doesn’t comment. I am so in love right now.

“Garrett?” Bram asks his friend.

“You know what scares me.”

“Will you do it?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Do you swear?”

“I swear”.

And none of them develops. Whatever it is, it seems to be between the two of them, and I am very envious of their relationship and their bond.

“I’ll go next,” Leah says when she realizes that nothing more will come from Garrett. “I can’t do mine now, and it won’t be as big as Bram’s big reveal…” True. “but I was talking with Nora…”

“My Nora?”

“Yes, Si, because you own the women in your family, because it is 1752. So, I was talking with Simon’s Nora, and she suggested something that I said I wouldn’t so, but I just changed my mind. We are starting a band.”

I was wrong. Her thing is bigger than Bram.

“You are going to start a music band with my sister?”

“It’s what I _just_ said, Simon.”

“But… when did that happen?”

“The real question,” Nick intervenes, “is how did you miss that. They are always practicing.”

“You knew?”

“Not everyone is as oblivious to the world as you, Si,” Leah says, and she never sounded more patronizing. “But don’t worry. It’s why we love you.” She turns around. “Nick, your turn.”

“Yeah, I’m sticking with the Space Mountain.”

“Bram _came out_ , and you’re sticking with a joke?” Leah asks.

Nick shrugs and we all let it go, because if he doesn’t want to share what scares him, that’s fine. But just as Abby is about to speak, he says: “Applying for an Ivy League.”

“What?”

“An Ivy League. That scares me. Because I know I won’t get in. I don’t have the grades, or the athletic abilities. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try, right?”

“Absolutely,” Abby answers. “Go see the guidance counselor, and write the best essay in the universe. You are smart. You are passionate. It’s worth something.”

“Thanks, Abby.” Nick sounds flustered by her answer.

“Actually,” she carries on, “that leads me to mine.” She seems to be bracing herself. Hers is apparently going to be live. “Nick… would you like to go out sometime? Like… like on a date?”

Nick looks like he has been struck by lightning. It takes him a minute, but he finally says yes and then they just stare at each other, grinning like idiots. No judgement there, I’ll look even more stupidly in love when I’ll be allowed to look at Bram that way.

They set a very weird mood, and everyone sort of suddenly has something to do somewhere else, to give them some privacy, and nobody seems to notice that I didn’t have a go. Which I am fine with. Because I still can’t come out to them, but I just decided that I am going to come out to my parents as soon as I get home.

 

I go the bathroom to be able to finally, finally, open Bram email. It is short, to the point, and yet shakes my whole world up.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 21 at 09.57 PM

SUBJECT: I’m ready

 

Jacques,

It’s all in the title, really. I’m ready. Let’s meet. Whenever you want, wherever you want.

Love

Blue.

 

“Hey Simon! What’s up?”

I find Bram in the kitchen again. I’m not entirely sure where anyone else is.

“I wanted to show you something.”

Bram looks at me and smile politely.

“Sure. What is it?”

I slide my phone on the counter and he grabs it with his long, gracious fingers, and reads what’s on the screen.

It is the email he sent me twenty minutes ago.

His entire body freezes. His jaws drop a little, his ears get a little red, his eyebrows lift slightly, and I can see the process of connecting the dots on his face. When he looks at me, there is this spark in his eyes. The same one he had after the soccer game.

“It’s you?”

“It’s me. Look, I know I’m not…”

“Oh, thank God!” he interrupts me. And the next things I know, he’s kissing me. It takes me a little by surprise, so the beginning of the kiss is a little muddled, but we quickly find our rhythm, and I get lost in the moment.

His words, his specific words, were ‘thank God’. I can’t believe _Bram freaking Greenfeld_ ’s reaction to Jacques being me was ‘thank God’. Could it be possible that he likes me as much as I like him?

 

It has been a fantastic fortnight. The best, really.

I didn’t come out to my friends, because they walked in on me and Bra in the kitchen. It was awkward, but it was still a nice moment, and Nick was much more excited and less awkward than he had be for Bram. He even asked if he was allowed to ‘make a big deal’ out of my new relationship. I just laughed at that, but I wouldn’t mind people making a big deal out of it. It is the biggest deal that ever happened to me.

When I got home the next day, I came out to my parents with Bram’s hand in mine. And it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would have been. Not with Blue in the room.

Now, we are at Bram’s soccer game. Sorry, Nick’s soccer game. Nick even scored a goal today. Same as Bram. He’s getting closer to his target. They won again, and the crowed is so excited. I am so proud, because my parents are somewhere in the bleachers (I think my dad could have cried when I invited him to a sporting event.) And no one tried to tackle my boyfriend this time, so it’s another win for me.

I go down to the pitch with the girls to congratulate the champions, and Bram runs to me, grabs my shirt, pulls my body against his and kisses me like he gets a free pass.


	9. What if they met in a dream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing. Just light, floating, and contentment. It was nice.  
> But then it got better. Because there was also Blue.

For a very long time, it was like floating. There was nothing. No sound, no color, just light. And floating. There wasn’t any pain, just contentment. He didn’t really know why he was so pleased by the lack of pain, but every second without pain filled him with joy.

And then, suddenly, he felt something. Like a wave. He wasn’t sure. He had let his consciousness wander and disperse for so long that he didn’t remember how to focus anymore.

So now, he is trying, as hard as he can, to concentrate. To understand what just happened. He doesn’t remember the last time something new happened.

It feels like things are not just white anymore. Like this golden light is spreading all around him. Or it might not be spreading. It might just be there. He tried to float his way to the light, but he isn’t quite sure how to. He isn’t even sure if he still has a body.

**Hello?**

He completely freezes. He heard something. Talking. When was the last time he heard someone speak? When was the last time he spoke? Should he try to answer back?

_Hello?_

It doesn’t feel like talking. It doesn’t feel like thinking either. It feels like something in the middle. It feels as easy as floating.

**Is anyone there?**

The other thought seems anxious. He would like to tell him that everything will be fine. That they just have to float and not be in pain. But just as he thinks that, he sort of remembers having been scared too when he arrived.

Arrived from where?

**Can you hear me?**

_Are you real?_

**I think so. Where are we?**

_Here._

**What does that mean?**

_I don’t know._

The other voice goes quiet, and he thinks he might have dreamt it.

**I wanted to introduce myself, but I don’t remember my name.**

That’s when he realizes that he doesn’t remember his name either. He knows he had one, he knows it was important for him to have a name, he simply doesn’t remember what it was. He thinks about it as hard as he can, but he still struggles to focus. There is another name that keeps popping in his mind. He knows it’s not the real one, but it’s linked somehow. It’s good enough for now.

_You can call me Jacques._

**You can call me Blue.**

_Why Blue?_

**I don’t know. It feels like it fits me, somehow.**

Jacques doesn’t argue back. He understands. Here, things are felt more than comprehended.

**How long have you been here?**

_I don’t know. A while._

**Isn’t it lonely?**

_Not really._

Jacques doesn’t really get this idea of loneliness. There was nothing, and it was fine. Now there is Blue, and it’s fine too.

_At least there is no pain here._

**As opposed to where?**

_I don’t know. I’m just happy there is no pain._

**I guess it is a good thing.**

Then they go back to just floating and being for a little bit. It is odd, because Jacques is now constantly aware that there is another presence where there used to be just him, light and nothingness, but it is nice.

He didn’t lie. He wasn’t lonely before. But it still feels nicer to not be alone.

 

Jacques is always aware that Blue is here, and he feels that the longer he is here, the more they are connected, even if they are silent.

But sometimes they talk. Think. Communicate. Jacques doesn’t know what to call what they are doing when they are exchanging specific thoughts, and not just moods and existence.

Blue is funny. Which could be hard in a place of nothingness. Jacques is pretty sure he is funny back, but it is hard to tell. He doesn’t remember what the standards are.

And then it happens. It is just a moment. A second, a day, a year, Jacques couldn’t tell. But it’s a moment during which he can’t feel Blue anymore. And, just like that, he understands loneliness. He isn’t sure he properly feels it, but he understands it.

 

But Blue comes back.

**I think I was back for a fraction of a second.**

_Back where?_

**I’m… not sure. I think I’m forgetting.**

_Forgetting what?_

**What was before. Do you remember anything from before?**

_Not really. It’s like my memories are right below the surface of my subconscious, but I can’t reach them._

**Doesn’t it scare you?**

_What?_

**Forgetting who you are.**

Jacques like having Blue here. He really does. But he has this awful tendency to ask questions that Jacques managed to avoid when he was just floating. Jacques knows that if he thinks too much about this, it will be completely terrifying. And he doesn’t want to be scared. Not when it’s easier to just… float.

_I don’t think I’m forgetting. Everything’s there. It’s just… out of reach._

**Do you think we go back if we remember?**

_Or maybe we manage to properly forget, we stop holding on, and we can move on._

**Move on to what?**

_I don’t think anyone can answer that._

Suddenly, Jacques subconscious understands where he is and what’s at stake. The choice he has to make. But he doesn’t let his consciousness admit it, and he goes back to floating with Blue.

Blue tries to remember. He doesn’t say it, but Jacques can feel it. He is fighting. Jacques is so inspired. He would like to do the same. But there is no pain here. He doesn’t know why this notion keeps coming back. But this is the one thing that his subconscious lets him remember. Back there, there was pain.

 

**I don’t understand this place.**

_It’s a bit like in Harry Potter. You know, in the end of book seven, when Harry meets the ghost of Dumbledore in a ghostly King’s Cross Station._

**You remember Harry Potter?**

That’s funny. He didn’t, before mentioning it. And now he does. All seven books, eight movies, and a poster on his wall.

_Do you?_

**Not before you mentioned it.**

_I think it was important to me._

**You have to stop talking in the past.**

_Fine. It is important to me. I think it made me realize something about myself, but I’m not quite sure what._

**It will come back to you. We just need to keep jogging your memory.**

_Shouldn’t we work on yours as well?_

**I’ve not been here that long. I remember more than you.**

_Do you think I used to remember more?_

**I don’t know.**

_Do you think we could create things here?_

**Like King’s Cross?**

_Yes, but… something that would be ours._

**Maybe we could. But I don’t think we should. I don’t think we are meant to stay here.**

And Jacques subconscious pushes a bit harder the realization he had before. About where they are. But once again, Jacques pushed it back, and goes back to floating quietly with Blue.

 

Blue disappears again. Jacques tries to go back to floating peacefully, but he can’t. He still doesn’t feel pain, but he feels lonely. He didn’t use to. He doesn’t know if it is a good thing to have met Blue. He understands that it is a sign that he met someone special, but will the memories be stronger than the loneliness? And, scarier, will he start forgetting things again? Will he forget Blue?

 

After a moment – a second, a day or a year, Jacques still can’t be sure – Blue comes back. He isn’t just a floating presence anymore. Jacques feels him more vibrantly than before. as if he were a full entity rather than just whatever Jacques currently is. As if he were here with the full force of his memories.

Jacques can feel that his companion is so close to remember everything, but he is holding back. And Jacques can think of only one reason for that behavior.

_Blue, you have to go back._

**But then you’ll be alone again.**

_I’ve been alone for so long. I’ll be fine._

**It’s different now. You started to remember. You feel the loneliness, now. I know you do.**

_But that’s not your responsibility. You have a life to live. You have people waiting for you._

**So do you.**

_No, I don’t. I don’t know how to go back. I don’t even know how to try. But you can go back. You keep going there and back. I’m the only reason why you’re still here. And I can’t do that to you._

**Jacques… I can’t leave you. You need me. And I need you. I can’t go on without you, knowing that you exist.**

_You might not even remember me._

**What if I do?**

_Then come and visit me. From what we understood, I am very sedentary._

Jacques feels warmth. He isn’t sure if Blue is laughing, hugging him, or something completely different, but it is positive. Jacques doesn’t want to think about it too much, but… it feels like a kiss.

**I don’t want to go.**

_I don’t want you to go. But you have to._

**I know.**

_I will miss you._

**I will come and find you.**

This very odd thing happens then. Jacques is more aware of Blue than ever before. It’s like Blue is everywhere around him. In him too, maybe. Both their consciousnesses connected, shared, intertwined.

And it’s perfect.

But then Blue fades away. And disappears completely.

 

A few moments pass. Seconds, days, maybe years.

Jacques is still floating. He is still alone. And he has the memory of Blue to wrap around him when the loneliness gets too sharp, but it still hurts. Somehow, he is sure that it hurts more than the pain he was afraid of.

He knows he must make a choice, now. He’s been here too long. Remember and go back. Which probably means forget Blue like Blue has most likely forgotten him already. Go back to the pain and the heaviness. Let go and move on. Without Blue, but without the pain and the loneliness. Into the unknown.

Jacques makes the only choice that makes sense.

 

*******

Bram opens his eyes and is very confused for a second. Everything is less bright than a minute ago, but it hurts his eyes so much more. His eyes are not the only part of his body that are hurting. His entire head feels like it’s being crushed. Jacques was right: at least there was no pain… wait… where was there no pain? Where is he now?

He feels something squeeze his hands and open his eyes fully. He is in an hospital bed and his mother is by his side, holding his hands. She has red puffy eyes, as if she cried, but she is now smiling softly.

“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Language, Bram!” But she is still smiling. “The doctors said that the operation went well. You will have to be here for a little while, but you are fine now.”

Oh, yes. The aneurism. Bram wanted to wait before the surgery, but his parents decided against it. They didn’t like the idea of him living with a ticking timebomb in the brain.

“Where is dad?”

“Getting coffee. _Not_ for you, of course,” she adds before Bram can cheekily ask.

Bram looks around. There is a curtain separating the room in two, and he is on the door side. He wonders for a moment who is on the other side, but his dad enters the room and his focus shifts. His surgery is the one thing that brought his parents in the same room again. Bram knows that they are not a family anymore, but it is nice to be able to be together without any drama.

He looks around again. Well. Maybe a little drama.

 

When his parents leave him, Bram focuses on the curtain again. Who is on the other side? It must be a teenager or a child, given that they are in the paediatric wing of the hospital. Probably a boy too. Then again, maybe not. How old?

Bram wonders for a little while, and then he thinks about someone. He can’t remember who, though. And it is extremely frustrating, because not only does he feel like he remembered not long ago, he also feels like it is important that he does remember.

But Bram is tired. He’ll try to remember tomorrow.

 

When he wakes up, he feels disappointed, and he isn’t sure why. It is as if he didn’t dream of what he wanted. Which is a silly thought.

There is some noise coming from the other side of the curtain. Someone moving things around. And then a girl’s voice. “Alright, Bub. The Oreos are on the nightstand. You know the drill. You wake-up, you get some.”

Bub? Obviously, that’s not the name of whoever lies behind the curtain, but the nickname doesn’t help Bram know if it’s a boy or a girl. It is a childish nickname. But it could be a teenager who kept his early years nickname.

However, now Bram knows that his mysterious roommate is asleep. Judging on the tone the girl used – a mix of hope and resignation – he has been for a while, but not too long that people have already given up.

The silence stretches on the other side. Then the girl sighs. “Fine. Whatever. Keep being stubborn.”. It sounds like she is sitting down and getting something else out of her bag. When she speaks again, he voice is much softer. “Where are you Bub? Is it even a nice place? Are you having sweet dreams? Are you alone?” Then she sniffs, and Bram hears a familiar sound. A book being open. “So… Nora told me that she finished the book last time. So, we are back at the beginning, I guess. Ready? _Mr. and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…_ ”

And she keeps reading the first Harry Potter to whomever is sleeping. Bram was never one for audiobooks. He likes following the journey at his own rhythm, finding the voices and intonation on his own, and he likes touching and feeling the paper. But he really enjoys this. She is quite good.

Something is however nagging him. Something to do with Harry Potter. He just can’t put his finger on it.

 

After a couple of chapters, the girl stops and tells ‘Bub’ that it’s time for a coffee break, and promises that if he’s awake when she comes back, he can have some as well.

Then she appears from behind the curtain and looks at Bram. “Oh… Hi. Sorry, did I bother you?”

“No, absolutely not.” She smiles. She looks tired. Not from lack of sleep. Just genuinely tired. “I’m Bram.”

“Nice to meet you, Bram. I’m Alice.” There is a half awkward silence. None of them seems to really know what the etiquette is in this situation. “So… why are you here?” Then she looks mortified. “I mean… if it’s fine to ask.”

“It’s fine to ask”, Bram reassures her. “I had brain surgery yesterday.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m all fixed now. And you?”

“I’m visiting my brother, Simon.” She hesitates for a moment, and opens the curtain. Bram finally sees where the constant humming was coming from. On the other bed is a boy, probably Bram’s age, he can’t be sure as most of is face is covered by part of a machine that seems to be the only reason he’s still alive. Bram shivers and look at Alice. He sort of wants to ask her to pull the blind again, but he can see that she needs to share.

“Hey Bub. That’s Bram. See, he had brain surgery yesterday and he’s awake and talking. Stop being a baby now and do the same thing.”

“What happened to him?”

“Car accident. It didn’t look that bad, you know. When we arrived at the hospital, he was still talking. Then the doctors talked about swelling in his brain and said that they had to induce medical coma. The idea was that when they stopped the meds, he would wake up. They stopped the meds, and he stopped breathing.”

She shakes her head, apparently remembering that she’s talking to a stranger. “I’m getting coffee downstairs. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

Alice nods and leaves the room.

Bram’s eyes are immediately drawn back to the sleeping boy. He seems so… helpless. It doesn’t even look like anyone is living in that body. At least, he doesn’t seem in pain.

That idea triggers something in Bram, but he can’t quite figure out what. He doesn’t know if it is an effect of the surgery, but he feels like he is constantly on the brink of remembering something, and it is extremely frustrating.

When Alice comes back, he is still staring. “Sorry,” she says. “I should have put the blind back.”

“Don’t worry about it. We are going to share a room for at least a week. We should bond.”

Alice smiles. She ends up sitting next to Bram. She asks a little about him, and he asks about Simon. He would ask about her, but he can tell that she needs to talk about Simon to someone who isn’t involved. Bram learns that Simon has been in this bed for two months now. But before that, he sounds like he was someone Bram would have liked.

She explains that Simon’s friends and family have a colorful online calendar and they take turn visiting him. Apparently, it works surprisingly well so far, but Alice is terrified that soon, people are going to start losing hope and be more reluctant to visit a dying teenager in a vegetative state. Her words.

Before Bram can find the words to comfort her, Alice says something that really triggers Bram’s brain. “When we were kids, Simon had this ridiculous idea that if he were French, he would be fancier. So, for a month, he made everybody call him Jacques. You know… Jacques a dit, Simon says…”

That name really flusters Bram. Like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard. Like it doesn’t matter if he remembers nothing that’s been tugging at his brain since yesterday, if only he can remember that one thing.

 

Late that night, after Alice is long gone, after Bram’s parents came and went, after the nurses are done checking on the patients, Bram still can’t sleep. He is extremely tired, but his mind created a whirlpool where Harry Potter, Jacques, and Simon not looking in pain spin, and spin, and spin… Why would any of that matter? Matter that much?

Bram, who is an athletic student after all, can’t stay lying down any longer. He decides to go sit next to Simon. If Alice left the book, read a chapter, maybe. It is awkward to stand up, because his muscles are a bit stiff, his balance is a bit off. But he is prepared for the awkwardness. He went through it a couple of times today. He even went for a walk in the garden with his father.

He sits in the chair by Simon’s bed. This close, he can sort of figure out the boy’s features in spite of the respirator. He looks cute, and… still.

Bram doesn’t really know what’s driving him to do so, but he takes the sleeping boy’s hand. And as soon as they touch, he gasps. Because he remembers. The floating. Nothing but white light, until this silver light found him. Jacques. Jacques who was stuck in this state of non-being.

Is Simon Jacques? He has to be. They touched and he remembered. He has to be.

“Hi, Jacques. Are you in there? Can you hear me?” Bram asks, rubbing Simon’s hand with his thumb. “I told you I would come and find you, didn’t I? It feels so weir talking to you. I mean… using my voice… That sentence was ridiculous. You have to wake up, because I need someone to tell me that they understand what I mean.”

Bram puts his other hand on Simon’s arm. “If you can hear me, I need you to make an effort to remember. The only thing you have to do, is remember and come back to me. To your family. Just come back and breathe. If you can do that, we’ll be able to work the rest out. Just… just remember, wake up, and breathe… Please Jacques… Actually, if it helps you remember… your name is Simon…”

There is a second of quiet, and then it happens. Bram doesn’t understand at first where the beeping is coming from. Then he realizes. It’s Simon’s monitor. It’s flashing and beeping. And not in a “waking up and being fine” kind of way.

Bram has been scared in his life. He was a child at some point. He has been terrified before. He is gay, and coming out was not easy. But he has never panicked before. So, it is very violent when it happens, when he has to gasp for air, when the adrenaline runs into his body, pushing for a fight or flight response. But there is nothing he can do. Because the one that has to fight is Simon. Or Jacques. But definitely not Bram.

“No, no, no, no, no… WAKE-UP!   SIMON, WAKE-UP!   SIMON…” Bram hears the nurses come into the room and sort of feels one of them put her arms around him and pull him back. But he is not moving. He won’t let her. “Jacques, please…” Bram’s voice dies in his throat. His body is weak, he is upset, but he powers through. Because he can’t give up. Not now. “I came back and found you. Now you have to come back to me. You can’t give up on me now. Please, Jacques.”

A male nurse pulls Bram, and he isn’t strong enough to resist this time. He is dragged out of the room just as a doctor runs in. Bram really wants to know what’s happening, but his body shuts down, and he passes out.

This time, there is no light, no floating, no Jacques. Only darkness.

 

When Bram wakes up, he is in a different room, and his mother is next to him. She looks anxious. She softens slightly when she sees he is awake.

Bram would like to take the time to say something nice to her, but he has to know. “Mom, you know Simon… the boy from…”

But she interrupts him. “Yes, I know who Simon is. The doctors explained why they moved you. You fighting them, delusional, calling the other boy Jack…”

“Jacques.”

His mother looks at him, confused. “Did you mistake him for another boy?”

“No, it’s… can I move back to my old room?”

“No. the doctors said it was a permanent move, and I am not going to contradict them.”

“Can you at least ask how he is?”

“No, Bram.”

“Why not?”

“Because you nearly died, Bram! There is this moment during the surgery when your vitals dropped, and your brain activity went so still that the doctors told us to prepare for the worse. But you pulled through. You are here. And then you do this? Your brain is still recovering, Bram! And I am not going to watch you tire yourself uselessly! What was that anyway? What is happening to that boy and his family is very sad. But we don’t know them…”

Bram doesn’t answer anything. How could he explain? Who would believe him? How would that bring Simon back? And even if it did, would Jacques be there?

Bram pretends to be tired so he can be alone. He can’t fight the tears anymore. What if Jacques decides to forget and let go? What if he can’t decide? What if he comes back, is stuck in a disabled body, and hates Bram for it?

 

That night, Bram gets out of his room. He needs to see Simon. He needs to know. He is fortunate enough to not find any nurse on his way, and finds his old room easily enough.

He opens the door. His former bed is unoccupied. The curtain is pulled. He walks in and shuts the door. Something is off. When Bram figures out what, he wants to run away. The room is silent. Simon’s respirator is not in the room. Or is shut down. In any case, it is not helping anyone breathe right now…

Bram walks towards the curtain and hesitates a moment. Can he really handle finding an empty bed on the other side?

He takes a deep breath. Once.

His fingers grab the fabric. Twice.

His entire body freezes for a second. Thrice.

He pulls the blind. Tears come uncontrollably. Simon is here. Weak, still, asleep, but alive. And, apparently, breathing on his own.

Bram nearly collapses on the chair and grabs Simon’s hand as if it were a life belt. “You’re still here! Thank God you’re still here! And you’re breathing. I’m so proud of you! The only thing you have to do now is wake up. One more step, Jacques…”

Nothing happens. “Simon, please.”

Bram, who would never admit it at loud, is a romantic. He has this crazy idea that if he kisses Simon, surely, that would bring Jacques back.

But he also knows about hospitals and germs. He can’t risk giving Simon a viral infection. Instead, he picks the other boy’s hand to his lips and kisses his palm instead.

But the magic doesn’t happen, and Simon doesn’t move. Life is not a fairy tale.

Bram simply holds Simon’s hand and talks. For over an hour, he just talks. He knows he will talk all night. About anything and everything.

And the following nights if he has to. He won’t give up. Ever. Until Jacques comes back or gives up.

 

Just as he thinks he might call it a night, he squeezes Simon's hand to say goodbye. But that’s when it happens. Simon squeezes back. Bram’s heart could explode.

He looks at the hand. It is definitely moving. He goes to press the nurse button, but he is stopped in his course when he sees the most magnificent moon-grey eyes looking back at him.

Bram freezes as Simon’s face lights up.

“It’s you!” Simon says. Even though his voice is hoarse for not being used in two months, there is wonder in his tone.

“It’s me!” Bram’s voice is shaking. “You came back!”

“Yeah… I didn’t know if I wanted to, but then I heard your voice. Using my name. But then… there was just silence, and I think I got lost. And then… you again.”

Bram is a bit overwhelmed. Jacques – Simon – came back. To him. For him. Thanks to him. But then, he remembers his fear from the other place. “Are you in pain?”

Simon shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’m dizzy though. And thirsty. So thirsty.”

“I should get a nurse!” And he presses the button.

“How long?”

“They are quick. Less than a minute.”

Simon smiles. Bram smiles. Bram wonders for a second if anyone has ever lived that before. And then another question bothers him: “Do you think we are going to forget?”

“Probably most of it,” Simon answers. “Not all of it, though. Not as long as we’re together.”


	10. What if they got lost in the woods?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's class is on a field trip to do some orienteering. You will never guess who he ends up teaming up with.

Orienteering. Who invented that stupid sport? Let’s face it, it’s not even a sport. So why is it in the Physical Education curriculum? Anyway, we spent an hour on a bus, got dropped in a forest, and now we are handed maps and compasses. Our teacher explains where we need to go, how to find it on the map, and shows us a couple of example routes we could take to get there.

It looks miles from my comfort zone, but I’m going to do what any teenager would do nowadays and use my GPS. That’s when my teacher kills all my dreams. They are collecting smartphones. A few of us protest, and Taylor points out that if we get lost in the woods, we might have to be able to call for help.

“Don’t worry. Every red dot on your map is a safety zone. If you get there, you will be able to get some help, either from a teacher, or an actual forest ranger. Also, you are going to be sorted into group of three students. If there is an issue with student one, then student two stays with him and student three can go get some help. You shouldn’t get lost; all the paths are clearly marked. I can assure you: you don’t need technology to do this.”

Woah, woah, woah… groups of three? I look at my three friends, and we all know we have to leave one behind. It sounds dramatic, but it feels dramatic too. It should be Nick. It can’t be Abby because she’s new and it would be mean. It can’t be Leah, because she has been a bit moody lately, and I don’t want her to feel excluded. It could be me, but I’d rather not. To be fair, it should be Nick. He could join two of his soccer friends. But I can see the way he looks at Abby, and I can tell he really wants the opportunity to spend time with her.

Garrett appears out of nowhere, Bram on his side. “Hey. Two of us. Four of you. Match made in heaven.”

Okay, now it only makes sense if Nick goes with them, because none of us really hangs out with either Garrett or Bram out of lunch. He’ll have other opportunities to hang out with Abby.

“Sounds great,” Nick agrees. “Simon, do you want to go with them?”

Pushing me under the bus. I see how it is. And I guess at least he had the presence of mind not to exclude Leah. And anyhow, now that he said it out loud, I can’t really say no.

“Sounds good to me,” I answer.

Bram smiles softly and Garrett looks over the moon. Maybe it will be a good thing. I guess I should try to hang out with them out of the school cafeteria. Besides, they are both sporty. I might be able to go through this by just following them and not even touching the map. Then again, they are both sporty. ‘Just following them’ might not be a walk in the park.

We have ten minutes to work on the map in teams and then the teachers will start dismissing us one group at a time.

Bram and Garrett each hold a different side of the map and I have to stand between them to be able to look at it with them. We are not exactly friends, so it is a bit awkward to stand in each other’s personal space. I am a bit afraid they will cringe, me being the recently outed gay guy, but none of them seem to even notice that we are standing that close, and that relieves me. I guess they are completely cool with me being gay.

“Why do we need the map? Don’t we just need to know what direction we need to go and follow the compass?” I ask. Garrett looks at me like he’s not sure if I’m joking or not. “What?”

“Because of the obstacles.” Garrett says. My face is probably completely blank, because Bram points at different things on the map.

“That’s a cliff. So, we can’t go in a straight line, we have to find a way around it. And that’s a river. We don’t know how deep it is, so we shouldn’t try to just cross it. We can avoid it if we go that way, or there is a bridge just here. Do you see it?” I nod.

“Maybe we don’t let Spier do the navigation,” Garrett suggests.

“Sorry. I’m going to be a dead-weight, today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bram offers, gently.

“Yeah. It was you or Thomas Torby,” Garrett adds. “And he’s… like a rainy Sunday evening with no Internet.”

“That is… oddly specific. But I’m sure you wanted Nick to join you.”

“I was under no illusion whatsoever that we would be able to unglue him from Abby,” Garrett says, and he winks at me.

Nick and Abby. That hasn’t happened yet, but apparently, we can all see how hard he is pining for her. Bram shares a look with Garrett and they clearly just had a silent conversation. Maybe Bram was hoping to add Leah to their group.

I try to picture Leah and Bram together and for a ridiculous second, I’m jealous. For a really silly thing. Because I would like to be the one, not Leah, that gets to find out if Bram Greenfeld is as funny as I think he hides.

But I can’t linger on the idea, because our names are called out and off we go.

 

I know Garrett is competitive. I’ve seen him play and I’ve heard him talk about sports. I also know I’m slower than them. But not once does say anything, or even look annoyed. He looks genuinely happy to be spending time with me. Bram too, even if he’s still very quiet. I must admit it surprises me a little bit. I always thought that the only thing I had in common with them was Nick.

Nick is my best friend. Or maybe it’s Leah, but it’s a debate for another day. So I should assume that if he is friend with someone, I would get along with them as well. But I also stupidly thought that the only thing they had in common with Nick was soccer. Maybe I should spend more time with them. Maybe there is something about Garrett and Bram that’s worth exploring.

Being with them is surprisingly easy. There is a strong bond between them, as if they’ve always known each other – even though I know Bram only moved her a few years ago – but I never feel like a third wheel in a conversation made only of private jokes. Which is something I feel they would totally be able to do.

We don’t talk about anything really personal, but we discuss school, books, movies, music, plans for college, soccer, games… It’s almost as if they shifted into different people. There is Bram and Garrett from an hour ago, who were just the representation of who I thought they were, and the Bram and Garrett from now, who are a more realistic representation of who they actually are.

We stop now and then to look at the map. Or more specifically, they look at the map and debate, and I look around. I am not really an outdoorsy person, apart from walking Bieber, and right now, I think I should do more things like this. Realistically, I know I won’t follow through, but right now, nature seems great.

 

“So, Garrett, if Thomas is a Sunday evening…” I start.

“A rainy Sunday evening with no Internet,” he corrects.

“Right. Sorry. If that’s what he is, what am I?”

“You shouldn’t have asked that,” Bram warns me. “He has a schedule theory for everyone.”

“Really? What day of the week am I, then?”

Garrett looks at me for a second and then decides: “A Saturday, 11 a.m.” This is oddly specific, and I have no idea how to take it, but I guess from now on, I am a Saturday morning. “A sunny one,” he adds as if it was meaningful. Which it might be for him.

“And what is Bram?”

“A stormy Wednesday night,” they recite in chorus. It feels like there is a story behind that. Like Bram might have been Garrett’s first ‘schedule theory’.

We carry on walking and I randomly just drop names whenever there is a silence. People from school, celebrities, fictional characters… And every time, Garrett has a day, a time and a weather. I’m not sure how many he makes up on the spot and how many he had thought through before today, but it is actually really entertaining.

 

At some point, my hand brushes Bram’s. His eyes dart towards it straight away like he’s been burnt. I apologize and move aside slightly.

I know his reaction doesn’t mean anything, that it is possible he would have done the same if I were a straight guy, or even a girl, but I still feel hurt. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the two of them exchange a look, and I don’t know what it means.

We are very quiet after that. I can tell that they don’t know if they can just move on or if they need to address it. The boys keep exchanging looks, and it feels like they are having yet another silent conversation. This time, I hate it.

 

After a few minutes, Garrett breaks the silence anyway, saying that the Queen of England is a drizzling Monday 6 a.m. We all laugh. It’s forced and fake, but it defuses some of the tension.

Some. Not all. That’s what leads to the accident.

 

We are nearly there. Probably fifteen or twenty minutes before all of this is over. We are walking on a small path. On our right is an unclimbable mountain section, covered in trees, roots and moss. On our left, the same but getting down – in other words nothing. There is a wooden barrier on the left-hand side, in case anyone would be stupid enough to walk too close to the gap.

The path narrows even more, and we walk in a line. Garrett and Bram start talking about the next soccer game and I zone out. The mood is still weird, the sky is getting cloudy, and I’m just in the wrong mindset now.

I am lost in my thoughts and I don’t notice that the rest of my team stopped to look at the map. When I realize, I am about to bump into Bram.

I know his previous reaction and the awkwardness that followed hurt me, but I also know that he probably didn’t mean anything by it, he has been really cool with me being gay so far. Bram is quite shy, and he’s probably just uncomfortable with physical contact all together.

So, as a reflex, I step and lean to the left to avoid him. My foot, however, doesn’t encounter ground, and I fall. Where I stood less than a second ago, there is no barrier anymore, because the path isn’t by a gap anymore, but the slope is still extremely steep.

As I fall, I see Bram’s hand trying to catch me, but he misses, and I hit the ground. Then, because the slope is so sheer, I slide down. It goes really fast, and my brain registers that I might die. But the slope goes gradually milder, and I stop at some point.

“SIMON!” Bram yells.

“I’M FINE.” I shout back. I’m pretty sure it’s not a lie.

“OKAY, DON’T MOVE,” Garrett tells me. “I’M GETTING SOMEONE.”

Even from here, I can hear Garrett running away. I’m not sure if Bram went with him. I know that ‘student 2’ is supposed to stay with ‘student 1’, but it’s not like he’s with me anyway.

Or maybe he is. Bram is carefully descending the slope, using trees and roots to maintain balance. He is probably a million times more graceful than I was a minute ago.

“Hey! Are you okay?” He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yep, I’m fine!” I mean, I have a few cuts on my hands, I think my left forearm will develop a bruise, and the skin on my lower back is all irritated. But I’m still globally fine.

Bram sighs in relief and helps me back up. “Garret took the map to reach one of the safe points and get some help. But now that you… took a shortcut, we’re actually closer than him to one of those. Do you want to wait, or would you rather move?”

I know we shouldn’t move. It’s safer to stay here, where someone knows we are. But there is a weird vibe between me and Bram, and I would rather be doing something. Plus, I just made a fool of myself, and it would be nice to be able to win back some dignity points.

Before I can decide anything, we hear the deep rumble of a thunderstorm in the distance and it starts raining. Well… it starts _pouring._

“Okay, let’s move.” Bram decides. “Can you walk?”

“I’m fine,” I repeat for the third time. “Can we get there without a map?”

“We’re going to use your ‘straight line’ technique,” Bram teases. He starts walking and I follow him.

 

None of us is dressed for the rain. I get wet very quickly, and therefore cold. Around us, there is only the forest. I can’t see where we were anymore. The sky is so grey that I can’t see the sun. I am completely lost. I rely entirely on Bram. If he gets lost, I won’t be of any help. Maybe we should have stayed still.

But I start shaking, and I know it would have been worse if we were just sitting under the rain.

 

We have been walking for ten minutes, and I can only trust that Bram knows where we’re going. We are not even following a path, he has neither the map nor the compass, and I have no idea how he knows where to go.

Somehow, however, I can’t bring myself to ask the question. If we are lost, that’s because I was an idiot, fell down a too-steep-to-climb-back slope, and he came to rescue me. If we are not lost, I’m just whiny.

Also, if we might be lost, I am anxious. If we are definitely lost, I’m going to properly panic. So, I stay silent and I follow him.

 

“Simon… about before…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really… I saw that you were offended, but…”

“Bram, that’s fine. Trust me. You have been cooler than most with it. It’s just… it happened, you reacted the way you did, and then it became awkward, and that’s what I hate. That things just get awkward. Because I’m gay.”

“Simon, it’s not like that.” I roll my eyes and keep walking. I just want to get somewhere warm and dry, get home, sleep, and wait for another day. I’m not even mad at Bram, I’m just… mad at society, I guess. But I can’t move, because Bram grabs my arm, forces me to turn around, and he is standing there, right in my space. “Please, stop.” His eyes look right into mine and his gaze is more intense than I’ve ever seen.

“Fine. What’s it like, then?”

And his lips are on mine. Cute Bram – brown eyes, soft curls, soccer calves and magical lips – is kissing _me_. For a second, the entire world narrows to where our bodies touch. My arm, his hand, our lips. Blue pops in my head, but I dismiss him. I will regret it later, but right now, a real kiss feels so much more important than words on a screen.

And there is an urgency in the way Bram kisses me that’s contagious. That confuses me a little bit, because it doesn’t feel like someone who has a crush on another person would try out. It feels like a real kiss, from someone who can finally express real feelings. I could understand (maybe) that Bram would have a crush on me. But there is only one person who could have _feelings_ for me.

I know he might not be, but I kiss Bram back like he’s Blue.

I’m still wet to the bone, I’m still shaking, but I’m not cold anymore.

We break apart – _jump_ apart – when we hear someone calling out for us. Garrett is apparently a fast runner.

 

I know the teachers can’t control the weather, but it is a coach of very grumpy students that is taking us back to Creekwood. At least it’s properly heated.

Bram and I didn’t have a chance to talk. The forest ranger that came for us took us straight to the meeting point and most of the students, Garrett included, were there already. At least they gave us a hot drink while we waited for the rest of the students. Nick’s group didn’t even arrive last.

We didn’t sit together in the coach either, because that would have been weird, and there was no way that I would have this conversation in public anyway.

Leah is half asleep against me. She isn’t usually a fan of physical contact or hugs, but I guess she’s cold and it’s warmer this way. It’s still nice.

My mind keeps reliving the kiss. My first kiss with a boy. It was sweet. It was great, actually. And it casts a completely different light on the events of the day.

There is a chance that Bram is Blue, but since I can’t know for sure until we talk about it, I embrace that feeling that they are but one person. That my first kiss (that counts, let’s forget the ones involving girls) was with the mysterious boy that had me so close to make out with my computer screen.

 

When we arrive to the school, we are dismissed straight away. There was supposed to be a debrief session, but everyone, teachers included, just wants to get home and get a hot shower. They might also be worried about parents complaining.

As the crowd of grumpy teenagers scatters towards the parking lot or the bus stop, Bram just appears next to me.

“Hey. Do you want to come to my house? So we can talk?” I nod and my heart beats a bit faster. I really think he’s Blue, but I’m afraid I’m applying Simon’s logic again. This morning, I was almost sure that it was Cal Price.

“Do you need to get home first?” he asks. “Or I can lend you some dry clothes.” That actually sounds great, because I don’t want to wait, and if any of my parents is home, I will have to answer all of their questions about today (they love what is out of the ordinary) and it’s going to take ages.

I end up following Bram to his house. I am freaking out the entire drive. This feels massive. Larger than life.

 

Bram’s house is so different to mine. Everything is tidy, organised and purposeful. It looks like the furniture and decoration have been chosen carefully, and not randomly added over the years.

Bram goes to his room for a moment and comes back with socks, some sweatpants, a T-shirt and a towel. He points to a door and says: “That’s the bathroom. Use anything you want. I’ll just use my mom’s shower.”

“Thanks.”

I hate our dynamics so much right now. It’s stiff and formal, and it’s never been like this before. Maybe we’ll be more ourselves after a hot shower.

It’s probably the best shower of my life. It has nothing to do with the object itself, which is a regular shower, but I can feel my entire body warm up and my muscles relax. I never found hot water so comforting before.

My underwear is thankfully still dry, but I am grateful that he thought about a change of socks. His sweatpants are a little large (no surprise there, he is more muscular than me), but they still fit. I grab the T-shirt and my heart stops.

Even with Simon logic applied, this would be too big of a coincidence for Bram not to be Blue. It’s a jersey cotton T-shirt with the logo from Elliott Smith’s _Figure 8_.

My hands shake as I put it on. It’s a perfect fit.

 

I walk out of the bathroom just as Bram walks out of his bedroom, putting a shirt on. Which means that for a second, I get a glimpse of his abs.

Bram looks at the shirt and looks mesmerised for a second.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’ve thought a lot about finally being able to give you the T-shirt, and you wearing it…” That revelation flusters me slightly. Did he really get it for me?

I walk toward him and softly grab his fingers. His eyes dart there immediately. Just like earlier today. But this time, I understand the moment completely differently. He squeezes my fingers and we just stay there staring at each other like idiots for a minute.

“So…. How do I look in it?”

“Real,” he whispers. His breath makes me shiver.

“Are you still cold?” I’m fine, but I can’t tell him that, because my lips find his instead. We both know we have to talk, but he drags me to the couch without breaking the kiss and we end up having a strong make out session.

But afterwards, I end up curled up against Bram as we talk about Jacques and Blue, about Bram coming out, about what we want for us… It’s nice. It’s even nicer once we decide to be official boyfriends.

“I think I should do something with my boyfriend this weekend,” I say.

Bram chuckles and buries his face in my hair. “Oh yeah? Such as what?”

“I don’t know. What do you think my boyfriend would like to do?”

“You just like saying ‘boyfriend’, don’t you?”

“What would make you say that?” I turn my head to look at him and he smiles at me. When he smiles, I smile.

“Do you want to go see a movie?”

“No, I want to do something outdoors.”

“Since when are you an outdoorsy person?” Bram asks.

“Since today.”

His face goes soft and he kisses me again. I’d do anything this weekend, as long as some of this is involved.

 

A few minutes later, we hear a car pulling in the driveway.

“It’s my mom. Are you ready to go official?”

“I am. Are you?”

Bram nods. I stand up, make sure I am presentable, and wait for his mother to come in. It is a bit intimidating. She is the woman with the Every Time Including Oral rule, and I am terrified it is going to come up. She is also the wonderful person who raised Bram, and she would be more than entitled to think that I am not good enough for him. She…

As if Bram could hear my internal rambling, he laces his fingers with mine and whispers in my ear: “Stop worrying. It’s gonna be fine. She is going to love you.”

I really hope he’s right.

We hear the front door open, and this is it. It is the beginning of Bram and Simon. In less than a minute, we will be official boyfriends. And no matter how scary it is, it is even more thrilling. I was right before. This is massive. Larger than life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697753)


	11. What if Bram drank too much at a party?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett throws a party and Nick drags Simon with him.  
> Simon finds a drunk Bram, who just shares a little too much.
> 
> It's sort of the mirror version from chapter 2.

I’m not entirely sure how I ended up babysitting Drunk Bram, but here I am, sitting with him on Garrett’s bed, keeping him away from the party downstairs.

Not that I was doing something interesting before. It’s the same at every party. I have to scan the room to see if I can spot Blue.

The truth is, we go to the same school, so I know that even if I saw him, I wouldn’t know. But I can’t help it, I have to look.

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I listened to Nick when he said we would have fun, but I don’t know where he is, I don’t really know anybody because it’s mainly he’s soccer team and their friends, and I am one of the only people sober. I never really drink anyway, but tonight I’m driving us back, so I won’t even drink that one beer that is usually enough to make me feel happier.

I look at the clock. I don’t know when he’ll be ready to go. Last time I saw him, he was playing the guitar with a harem of girls around him. I know Nick is good looking, but what is it about heterosexual girls and any boy who can play three notes on a guitar?

I was looking at Nick trying to seduce all the girls with a – pretty good – cover of Aerosmith (why?) when Bram appeared next to me. “Simon! I didn’t know you were here!” He looked like a kid who just saw Santa.

“Hi, Bram.” It was weird. Bram never really speaks directly to me.

“Do you want to know something?” When I listened, I could tell that Bram had been drinking. He spoke slower than I’m used to, his diction wasn’t as precise as it usually is. And his eyes lingered a little longer, maybe.

“I probably do, but you probably shouldn’t share.” Bram smiled and seemed to think I had a point, because he didn’t carry on with his story. I think it was the first time I had been this close to Bram. When he smiles, he is kind of adorable.

Garrett appeared too. He had a cup in his hand, but he didn’t look drunk. It is his house, and he might have wanted to keep some control over what’s happening. “What’s up, Spier?”

“Not much. Nice party.”

“Thanks. Hum… Bram? Do you want to come with me outside?”

Bram looked at Garrett. “No, I’m good. Garrett is afraid I’m going to tell you too many secrets. Don’t worry. You should know I would always keep your secrets.”

“I know. But are you sure you will keep yours?” Garrett looked worried. I suddenly liked him a lot better. I knew that him and Bram are close, but I never saw Garrett as the caring kind. It was sweet, really.

“What’s your biggest secret? You got a B once in English?” I asked, trying to diffuse the tension.

But then the most improbable thing happened. It was like seeing a unicorn. Only even less likely.

Bram leaned into my space and whispered: “I’m in love with a boy…” Garrett looked like he’d been struck by lightning. For a split second, I thought that he might be the previously mentioned boy, but he didn’t seem embarrassed. He looked like he was trying to stop the words coming out of Bram. But he wasn’t quick enough, because the unicorn was now sneezing diamonds; Bram carried on: “… and that’s not even you.”

Garrett looked at me, half panicked, half threatening. “Has he been like this all night?” I asked.

Garrett relaxed a little bit. “Not really. Apparently Four-Beer Bram equals Drunk Bram. And Drunk Bram is Chatty Bram, but with no filters. He told John Harris that he had sexy arms.”

“What?” There is no way I could picture Bram doing this. Bram who blushes when I see his English score, and who never makes eye contact with anybody unless he absolutely has to.

“Oh, come on! He does have sexy arms,” Bram said, slightly louder than necessary.

“Maybe we should take him somewhere else before he comes out to everybody,” I suggested.

Garrett nodded, and we took Bram to his bedroom.

“I don’t want to stay here,” Bram complained.

“You’ll be fine here,” Garrett said, making him sit on the bed. “Here, draft an email.” To my surprise, Bram took his phone and happily enough started typing. “But DO NOT send it,” Garrett warned.

I offered to stay with him as Garrett had apparently done quite a lot of supervision already. He looked nervous, but he agreed.

“So… he’s really gay?” I asked. “Or just really drunk?” Garrett didn’t reply. Which was an answer on its own. We looked at each other for a minute, and it felt like we understood each other. Bram is gay. No one out of this room can know unless Sober Bram decides to.

 

So here I am, sitting by Garrett’s desk, looking at Bram typing an email on his phone. He looks very focused, and as composed as he always is. Maybe he’s sobering up and the unicorn will disappear.

I don’t really know how to engage the conversation in a way that wouldn’t sound patronizing. It is getting a little awkward, so I look around.

Garrett’s room isn’t exactly what I pictured. The walls are covered with movie posters, but all of them are from before the seventies. By his bed is a book about impressionism. On his desk, there is a vision board made entirely with Polaroids.

“I was surprised too.” Bram’s voice surprises me and I jump. He laughs softly.

“What?”

“Garrett’s room. I expected posters of sportsmen and pinups. Instead… this.”

“The ‘Seven Year Itch’ poster definitely counts as pin-up material, though,” I say and Bram smiles.

He looks back at his phone, and asks: “I should still send it, right?”

“What?”

“The email,” he answers like I’m a moron. Which I probably am, because it was actually obvious.

“No. You shouldn’t. You’ve been drinking. I don’t think you’ll be happy with it tomorrow.”

“But it’s an important email.”

“All the more reason to not send it when you’re drunk!”

Bram lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling. He seems thoughtful for a minute. “But I can never tell him those things when I’m sober.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“The boy that’s not you.” I’m not sure why Bram takes me as the person to compare his crush to. Maybe it’s obvious that I am gay and Bram knew all along. Or maybe he had a crush on me at some point. Okay, maybe not. That would be a ridiculous prospect.

“You’re going to drunk email your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Bram answers. He sounds really sad about that, and I can relate. I can see in Bram the mirror of my own frustration regarding Blue. “He flirts a bit sometimes, but… I never know if it’s real. And even if it is, maybe he won’t want me when we meet. He asked. Several times. I just can’t say yes. But I feel brave, now. Maybe if I say yes now, I won’t be able to take it back tomorrow…” Bram’s voice dies and he just keeps staring at the ceiling. He completely forgot about me, lost in his thoughts about the boy he is in love with.

A few feet away, I can’t breathe. So that’s how it feels like when your have a life altering revelation?

I want to ask a million questions, but… would that be right? If this is a coincidence, it is the most improbable one. But Bram is drunk – apparently an _oversharer_ drunk – and Blue doesn’t want to be found out yet.

I thought I wasn’t ready to be found either, but… now that Blue is maybe there, within reach, it feels completely different.

I could handle Bram not being Blue. But I can also so easily wrap my head around Bram being Blue. _B_ ram _Green_ feld. It might be Simon’s logic, but it fits, doesn’t it?

My heart beats so loud that it feels like palpitations. I need to know. Just as I am about to point blank ask ‘Are you Blue?’, Bram looks at me, and my mind goes blank.

“I hope he’s cute like you,” he says.

“Well, you know what? I’m ninety percent sure he is.” Bram smiles. He apparently doesn’t get what I’m saying. I’m still debating if I should tell him or not.

But then the unicorn – because a real-life unicorn is more likely than any of this, right? – comes back as Bram says: “I used to have a massive crush on you.”

I am so baffled that I can’t even process his sentence. He misunderstands my silence, because he adds: “Don’t worry. It’s gone now. Or maybe it’s still there. It’s just so small compared to what I feel for Jacques.”

And my heart explodes. Because _he said it_. There isn’t any room left for ‘maybe’s anymore. It’s Blue. He’s there. He _loves_ me. He is gathering the courage to meet me.

My mind can barely keep up with it. My body can’t, though. My hands are shaking and my eyes are watering.

Bram turns his head and he looks confused when he sees my reaction. Then his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s happening. “It’s you, isn’t it?” he whispers.

I nod. My throat doesn’t seem to be willing to let any sound go through.

He sits up straight and we just stare in silence for a moment. In a gracious movement – can I just note that the boy is drunk and that if it were me, I wouldn’t even be able to gracefully coordinate walking? – he is kneeling in front of my chair.

Like this, is nearly at my level. He is so close to me. I can feel his breath on my lips. A couple more inches and I would know what he tastes like. But one of us has to be the responsible one. I hate myself for it, but I say: “Bram… you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re ‘coming out in public’ drunk.”

“I totally see your point. But I don’t really care.”

“Bram…”

“What? You think I don’t spend half of my waking time thinking about this?”

I have to stop this. I am the sober one. Even though it doesn’t feel like it when he looks at me like that.

“I was so hoping it would be you.” I can’t really return the compliment, because it never even crossed my mind that Bram might be Blue. Not to mention that it makes my head spin. He wanted Jacques to be me. Bram likes both versions of me. Maybe that means he likes the full, real me.

I’m so cozied up in that idea that I can’t fight it anymore. Bram puts his lips on mine and I kiss him back. It’s even better than I thought it would.

It’s definitely better than seeing a unicorn.

A loud noise from downstairs reminds us that we aren’t in our little bubble, but in a house full of partying teenagers.

“My mom is at a seminar in Florida,” Bram says. But all I hear is ‘empty house’. It is a terrible idea, but right now it sounds like heaven.

I feel terrible for Nick, but he will have to find another way to get home.

 

Bram and I order pizza and eat it sitting on his kitchen floor, talking about everything. There is something enchanting about eating late night junk food with a sobering possible boyfriend.

That’s what I am dying to ask him. If we are boyfriends, or if we just shared a drunken kiss – even though the drunken part didn’t apply to me. But this is probably a conversation we need to have in the morning. As fun as tonight has been, I want Sober Bram to be my boyfriend.

Then Bram gives me a change of clothes and slides a spare bed from under his bed. Apparently, Garrett uses it a lot. Less, since Bram came out to his mother, because she is now a little weird about it.

When I get back to Bram’s room, I am just wearing my boxers and the T-shirt he lent me. Bram looks at me with something in his eyes I can’t read. It’s like a fire, and it makes me feel hot all over. I know I’m blushing, and I don’t even know why. I go to lie on the spare bed, but he sits back up and he grabs my shirt, pulling it up slightly. “Come here.” He whispers as his mouth finds my neck, and my entire body stops working. My mind too. I can’t process what’s happening. It’s too much, too fast.

One of Bram’s hand stays on my shirt, but the other one found its way under it. I know I have to stop it. I am not ready to go further, and I know that Sober Bram wouldn’t either.

But it feels really good, and it would be so easy to just melt in the moment. Let Drunk Bram take charge of what comes next, and find out if the rest feels as nice and intoxicating as this.

“Bram, please, stop.” Despite his forward attitude seconds before, Bram’s touch disappears as soon as I say ‘stop’.

“Sorry,” he says. “It’s… you’re there, and you look like _that_.”

“I get it, it’s just…”

“Yeah… I know.”

We settle in different beds. I feel giddy, but I’m also tired and I feel myself falling asleep.

“Simon?”

“Yes?”

“Will you be there in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

Bram lets his hand fall from his bed and I take it. We fall asleep with our fingers intertwined.

 

I wake up before Bram. He didn’t drink that much yesterday, but he never drinks, so he might a little hungover. I go wash up, and I go to his kitchen. I find coffee and some frozen waffles. It won’t be the breakfast of the year, but it will be good enough. I set everything so I just have to reheat everything when he wakes up.

I get back into Bram’s room as silently as possible, but it doesn’t matter. He’s awake anyway. He’s sitting in his bed, one knee up, his elbow resting on it, rubbing his neck. I swear, this boy. He’s like a piece of art.

His face lights up when he sees me. “I thought you were gone,” he confesses.

“You made me promise to be there in the morning,” I remind him.

“I don’t keep any promise I make Garrett when I’m trying to get his drunk ass to go to bed,” he replies.

That makes me laugh. I go to kiss him, but I stop a few inches from his face. Because Today Bram might not be as okay with physical contact as Yesterday Bram was. He chuckles and pulls me in. There is something empowering in knowing that Sober Bram still wants to kiss me.

However.

“Bram. I love you, but maybe it’s time for some teeth brushing?”

And we both freeze. Not because of the after-party-breath comment. Because of the other part of my sentence. And I feel like the biggest idiot alive. It’s too soon. It just slipped. Obviously if I had realized I was going to say that, I wouldn’t have said it in the least sexy sentence ever.

I know Drunk Bram said it, but he didn’t say it _to me_ , not really. And there was the alcohol factor. This morning, it doesn’t feel natural. It doesn’t feel like the right timing.

We stare at each other for a minute and Bram’s eyes are still wide in surprise. He doesn’t say it back. He doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t smile. He just stares.

“I… I’ll go finish breakfast,” I say. And I teleport outside of the bedroom.

I reheat the frozen waffles and I make coffee. I don’t even know why. I should go, really.

My throat feels too tight and I just want to cry. After all this time, I finally have Blue, and I blew it. It was too soon. I didn’t take it back, play the ‘it’s just an expression’ card, because I really do mean it. And I really am fine if he isn’t there yet. But his lack of reaction was just… devastating.

He didn’t look in love. He didn’t even look pleased. Is that what he wants, at all?

I hear Bram entering the kitchen, but I need one more second to compose myself before I can face him.

But then he’s standing behind me, his arms around my torso, his lips on the nape of my neck. My entire body gets covered in goose bumps. I lean in as he tilts my head to kiss me softly.

“How’s the breath?” he whispers, and his voice is like velvet.

“Better,” I whisper back.

“Good. We couldn’t have this conversation with old-beer-breath, could we?”

I shake my head slightly and my heart is pounding. I hope I know where this is going.

“I love you too.”

 

The microwaved breakfast is quickly forgotten, untouched. Our kiss becomes quickly passionate, and it turns into a full on make out session. Bram drags me back into his bedroom and we collapse on his bed.

I end up on top of Bram, and his fingers slide under my T-shirt. He breaks the kiss to look at me, a question in his eyes. He looks nervous, and that reassures me somehow. I nod and he pulls it over my head.

A wave of self-consciousness crashes on me. I am not athletic like him. I am more on the skinny side, but not the well-defined one. But Bram looks at me like I’m… hot? That makes me feel hot. In every way.

His lips find mine again and his hands are all over my skin. I have fantasized about this before – Blue touching me – but this doesn’t even compare.

I pull Bram’s shirt up and he gets rid of it. His skin feels so warm and soft against mine. Bram grabs me and swaps us over. I let my hands explore his back, and he fists my hair, breathing a bit faster. His hand slides from my shoulder all the way down to my fingers and his mouth travels to my neck. There is no rhythm to my breathing anymore.

His lips travel even more south. Down my chest, all the way to my belly button. Just as I’m about to ask him to not go further, he makes his way up anyway. I feel even closer to him, knowing that we are on the same page. That we have the same line.

I know we’ll have to talk about it, but not right now. Right now, I want to keep kissing hip, I want him to keep his hands on me, I want to taste his neck, I want him to grab my hair again… I just _want_.

This is much better than yesterday, because I’m not worried. I know that we both know what we’re doing – sort of. I’m still very much intoxicated by the way he smells, feels, sounds… – and I know that we will stop before it gets too serious. Because none of us is ready. Knowing that makes is so much easier to fully enjoy what’s happening.

And trust me, it is freaking enjoyable.


	12. What if they got the wrong hoodie?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day trip to a museum, Simon grabs the wrong hoodie. There is a chance that it might be Blue's. And maybe it's enough to figure out who Blue is.

The junior class is quieter than usual when we leave the museum. Even the students who didn’t take it seriously and made jokes on our way over are finally silent. It was a humbling experience.

The school decided to take us all to the Center for Civil and Human Rights. I have lived in Atlanta my entire life, and I never went there before. It’s great that the school made us, because I almost feel like a different person walking out as I did when I walked in. It also made me take a look at myself, and my problems.

As much as it sucks being outed by Martin freaking Addison, I can put things into perspective now. There was also a lot about LGBT people around the world, and it was so relatable. Georgia sucks. Some other places are hell.

It was also weird, knowing that Blue was somewhere in that museum and that even thought we weren’t living the experience _together_ , we were still living the experience together. It got me wondering how many other categories he might have fallen into. I had been so focused on the idea that Blue was like me, but maybe he isn’t. I look at the rest of the class, and for the first I really realize that _any of them_ could be Blue.

 

When we left school to get to the museum this morning, we were all given similar hoodies. It probably had two purposes. The first one was to spot use more easily in the crowd. The second one was to make sure we would remember this visit. As if witnessing the human oppression both in history and in the present is something you forget easily, or want to remember when wearing a piece of clothing. At least the hoodies are simple and sober.

It’s warm in the museum, so most of us left our hoodies with our bags at the reception. We are all there, collecting our things and it’s a bit of chaos. I get my things and go back to my friends.

Abby is talking about the sitting counter. It is an exhibit in the museum where you sit at a lunch counter, you put your hands on the counter, put headphones on and close your eyes. Then, you start hearing racist insults, feeling kicks in the chair, hearing threats… The point is to make you live a day – or rather a minute and a half in my case – in the live of a civil rights protester, or even of a colored person at a lunch counter in the 60’s in the South. I found the experience terrifying.

“I couldn’t do it properly,” Abby is saying. “I had to open my eyes to remind myself that I wasn’t living it and that I was safely in a museum.” For obvious reasons, it was closer to home for Abby. Most of us didn’t complete the simulation. Among the people who did the whole thing was Bram. I sort of wanted to ask him why he would do that to himself, but we aren’t really that close.

The teachers gather us up, and we go back, still quieter than usual.

 

When I get home, I am putting my school bag away when Bieber comes jumping around me. I decide to walk him before I lose the energy. It’s chilly out there, so I put on my hoodie.

But it’s not my hoodie. It’s one size too big and there are things in the pockets. I take it off, a bit put off by the idea of having worn a stranger’s clothes. I throw it on my chair, and I grab one I’m sure is mine before heading out with Bieber.

I have no idea whose hoodie that is, if I grabbed the wrong one and left mine there, if I swapped with someone… That’s fine. I’ll just bring the hoodie to school and hand it over to lost and found. If whoever lost it really wants it back, they can have it tomorrow.

 

As soon as I get back home, I go back to my room to email Blue. It’s still a bit weird between us since I guess he was Cal Price, but it’s getting better. We are getting over this. I’m even pretty sure that he was flirting yesterday. It was the first time since the ‘incident’, so I didn’t really flirt back. I didn’t know what he would find appropriate.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 02 at 6.31 PM

SUBJECT: Interesting day

Blue,

Today was kind of intense, wasn’t it? I found it extremely humbling.

It was so powerful to read about the oppression of LGBT people all around the world. I still think that I might want to leave Georgia in the future, but I was also extremely grateful to be here rather than somewhere I would have to live hidden forever or risk my life. How crazy is it to think that it is still a reality today?

When they talked about every kind of discrimination, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them applied to me without me noticing. How many would apply if I lived somewhere else. I also wondered how many applied to you. I know you won’t tell me that. It’s fine. I don’t really want to know. I want our emails to be the place where we never have to fit in a box.

And I’ll have time to answer all the questions I have about you when we meet.

Because we’ll end up meeting, right? One day. Can I hope? Tell me I can hope.

Love,

Simon.

 

And I press send.

I know I probably shouldn’t have pushed with the last line. But I want him to know that even though I’ll give him all the time he needs, I am dying to meet him.

I started signing my emails with love again a few days ago. He’s not there yet. That’s fine. I don’t want him to force it. When I see the word again – _if_ I see the word again – at the end of his emails, I’ll know we’re back to where we were. Maybe it will feel like I’ve won Blue back, and not like every day could be the day he stops emailing back and I lose him forever.

The hoodie pings. Whoever forgot it left their phone inside. Okay, so now I know they definitely want it back. My curious side makes me want to look at the phone, but my mom calls me for dinner. Stomach before nosiness, I guess.

 

Exactly as I walk back into my bedroom, the hoodie is vibrating furiously. Probably a phone call. It might be the owner of the phone looking for it, so I look for the phone. I miss it. Just. By less than a second.

But the screen is still lit up and I almost drop it from the shock.

There are two notifications on the phone. The call I just missed, soberly labelled ‘home’.

And an email notification. From hourtohour.notetonote. My heart drops. Stops. Expands. Explodes. All at the same time. It’s _Blue’s phone_. His hoodie.

I need a second to process it. I sit back on my bed, the phone in one hand, the hoodie in the other. I’m still breathing fast. This feels unreal.

My dad knocks on my door and enters the room. I feel my face burning up and, even though I’m not sure why, I try to hide the hoodie. He freezes and looks at me like he’s going to make a joke. That really scares me. This moment is epic. It is sacred. It is my first material, physical link to Blue. I don’t want my dad to ruin it.

My dad probably reads something on my face, because he discards his joke, and tell me that the Bachelor is starting instead. I ask him if I can miss it, just this once. He looks at me for a second and he seems to be looking for something in my eyes. He finally says yes and closes the door behind him when he leaves.

I look at the phone – _Blue’s phone!_ – which is still in my hand. The lock-screen is the picture of what seems to be a library, and it’s so Blue. I can’t unlock the phone, however, and I am not closer to knowing who he is.

I put the phone on my desk and report my attention to the hoodie. It’s the best clue I have. It’s too big for me. But it can also mean that Blue likes to be extra comfortable in his hoodies. It’s not big enough to indicate that Blue would be overweight, though. Not that I would mind, particularly, but there are a few students I can rule out, now.

I’m still giddy at the idea. I am holding something that belongs to Blue.

I can’t help it. I smell the hoodie. It doesn’t smell like a new hoodie. It smells like it’s been worn. It smells like Blue.

It smells good, but the smell doesn’t mean anything to me yet. I can’t help but hope that someday, that smell will be familiar to be. I’m sure it will be my favourite thing.

I don’t know if it’s more creepy or pathetic, but I fall asleep holding the hoodie.

 

I have been debating this during the entire drive to school, but I give the hoodie with the phone to the receptionist as soon as I arrive in school. I can’t force Blue into revealing himself. Whenever he’s ready.

I almost gave the phone back, without the hoodie, but that was weird. It was just hard to let go.

They gave me my hoodie back. Blue was here before me. When I leave reception, I look around. No one’s there, so I smell the hoodie. But Blue hasn’t worn it. It smells nothing. Or maybe it smells like me and I can’t notice it. Either way, it feels like a loss.

 

Today, I feel closer to Blue, and I have to keep reminding myself that it is not because of a choice he made. That in Blue’s mind, today is just the same as yesterday.

My eyes still seem to scan the crowd, looking for him. How do you spot someone who lost a hoodie, doesn’t have their phone, and smells good?

The answer is: you can’t. Unless you’re prepared to ask very odd questions to every boy you pass in the corridors. So when the day finishes, I am starting to let go of the feeling that Blue and I took another step in our relationship. We didn’t. I’m just desperate to. It still feels like a tiny heartbreak.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 03 at 7.03 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Interesting day

Simon,

Yes, it was intense. I didn’t even know that place existed.

Reading about the struggles of gay people across the world was indeed an eye-opener on our situation. I felt like such a coward. People are out there risking their lives for the right to love who they want, and here I am, unable to come out to people because what? Because high school sucks? As you said, there were other types of discrimination. High school sucks for people who can’t hide in the closet. It’s just nice, you know… to not have anyone putting labels on you.

Still… How weak am I that I can’t even come out to _you_?

Especially because people still give me labels, I guess. We all do it. We categorize people. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to have just this extra one.

And of course, you can hope. Whenever I feel like crawling back into my own space, you are here, pulling me towards you. I’m nearly there. It’s entirely thanks to you. I might not get there if you give up on me. I know it’s not fair for me to ask this of you when I’m always the one pulling back, but please, keep hoping.

Love,

Blue.

 

There is a lot in that email. But the only thing I can see is the word ‘love’ at the bottom of the email. He didn’t have to tell me to keep hoping. That one word just lit all the beacons of hope in my heart again.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 03 at 8.43 PM

SUBJECT: I’ll never stop hoping

Blue,

Please, never call yourself a coward or weak. Coming out is this massive terrifying thing. I don’t want to rush your timing. Please, believe that. My timeline for it was completely derailed and I want to be able to do it in your terms, when you’re ready, when it’s right. If there is one thing I want more than meeting you, it’s that.

But also believe that us meeting won’t necessarily mean you coming out.

And of course I’ll keep hoping. Tomorrow. Next week. In two months. Ten years from now. Forever.

Love,

Simon.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 03 at 9.11 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I’ll never stop hoping

Simon,

It won’t take forever. It won’t take ten years. I don’t know when it will be, but I’m so close. Trust me.

However, I do think that meeting you means coming out. Not that I think you would do anything that would give it away, it’s just that the closet is not a particularly comfortable place to be in. I won’t pull you back in.

Love,

Blue.

 

I am in a particularly good mood when I get to English the following morning. There even is a spot on the coach. I sit between Bram and Nick.

Just before the lesson starts, Nick ask something to Bram about their next soccer game and Bram leans in.

It’s nothing. It probably happened a million times before. Only this time is different. Because this time, I know how Blue smells. And Bram smells exactly like that.

I didn’t know if I would be able to recognize the smell, but I guess odors really are a path to souvenirs, because suddenly, it’s like I’m back in my bed holding the hoodie.

Bram notices a change in my attitude, because he asks: “Everything okay?”

I nod. I should say something.

But Mr Wise comes in and starts his lesson.

 

I have to be very careful. I can’t use Simon logic again. Bram might just smell the way I _remember_ the smell on Blue’s hoodie. Or the two boys might just use a similar product.

But I don’t know… it just _felt_ right. Like I wished Cal was Blue so I would finally know who he is, but it _makes sense_ that Bram would be Blue.

I never even considered that possibility before. I’m not entirely sure why. I mean, he’s cute. Adorable, really. He’s kind, and smart. And he’s English grades, I mean… Blue has to be great at English, right? Bram just never struck me as gay, even less as the gay mystery boy I’ve been falling in love with.

Blue might still be someone else, but in this moment, I really want it to be Bram.

 

The idea stayed with me all lesson. I know I can’t email Blue about that. He just started signing his emails with ‘love’ again, and I can’t risk upsetting him again. What if I hurt him so bad that he doesn’t email me again?

The best I can do is try to find out from Bram. I’d rather confuse Bram than lose Blue.

So I gather every bit of strength and courage I have in, and I turn to him as we are packing our things. I’ve never been this nervous. It’s like stage fright times a few thousands.

“Hey, Bram, did you happen to grab the wrong hoodie at the museum?”

The question seems to unsettle him. “Yeah… I did, actually. How do you know?”

Oh my God. _OH MY GOD_. It’s him. That’s him. That’s Blue!

“I think you took mine and I took yours,” I answer, trying to get my heart rate to calm down.

“Really? How funny! That’s quite a…” But his face changes as it dawns on him that it means I probably found the phone. With the notification. “Simon, I…”

But we can’t have that conversation we can have in between two classes.

“I’ve got history now,” I interrupt him.

He nods. He gets it. “See you at lunch,” he replies.

 

There is no way I am going to focus on any lesson this morning. I try. I really do. But my mind keeps going back to Bram. Things he wrote in his emails. The way his calves look on the soccer field. How he asked me to keep hoping. That time he blushed because I saw his perfect score on a paper. That email when he told me he likes imagining me fantasizing about sex. The day I called his try-outs auditions and how gorgeous he looked that day. The day he dressed up as a cheerleader and I didn’t think he had it in him. Bram sitting at that counter in the museum. Blue coming out to his parents.

It’s just a storm of memories rushing through my head. I can’t just go to lunch and face him at the lunch table. I should just skip lunch. We can email later. Sort it out online, where we’re comfortable.

Just as this idea crosses my mind, Bram just appears by my locker.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

I nod.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

I follow Bram into an empty classroom. I sit on a desk and Bram leans against the wall a couple of feet away from me. He looks nervous, and it makes me nervous.

But I look into his soft brown eyes, and I can feel my heartbeat getting faster. I have no problem seeing Blue in Bram. It doesn’t feel like I’m losing anything. On the contrary, I feel like I’m gaining an entire world of possibilities. There were always limits on how well I could know Blue, and they don’t exist anymore. Besides, now I can hear, see, touch, smell… taste?

My eyes drop to his lips for a second. I don’t know if he noticed.

“So it’s really you?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“It’s really me. I have been thinking about this all morning. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought it would help to be able to see you.”

“And does it?”

Bram takes a step forward and covers my eyes with his hand. “Not really. I can’t concentrate when you look at me.”

This one second rocks my entire world. Bram walked into my space and his smell is all around me. It’s stronger that on the shirt, it’s stronger than when he leaned over me the other day. It’s almost intoxicating. And Bram is so close that he whispered that last sentence, sending all sorts of shivers down my spine. I can feel Bram’s breath on my face. If I leaned a few inches further, my lips would find his.

Not that I could, even if I wanted to. I am completely frozen by the contact of his hand on my face.

“What do you want from me?” Bram asks softly.

“Everything.” I reply. I want to take back the words as soon as they leave my mouth. It’s too much too soon. The last thing I want is to scare Bram away.

But Bram doesn’t run away. He lets his hand slide from my eyes to the nape of my neck and when I open my eyes, all I can see are those two golden brown eyes looking back at me. His eyes look softer than ever, and it’s a lot, to be looked at this way.

Bram’s fingers start rubbing softly against my neck and my stomach goes haywire. I move to reach his free hand and our fingers find their way together.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to give you everything yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to take this out of this room.”

“Bram… I’ve waited that long. I can wait longer. I guess I’m just happy you’re fine with me being Jacques, and…”

Bram’s gaze lowers to my lips and I am suddenly unable to keep talking.

“I would very much like to kiss you.” Bram whispers.

I nod, and Bram leans in. As our lips touch, I slide my free hand in Bram’s hair. Bram pulls me closer and I stand up, happy to oblige.

 

When I get home, I still feel drunk from the kissing. Blue is Bram. Bram wants me. Bram kissed me. I don’t remember ever being so happy.

My mother seems to notice something is going on, but I want to keep this to myself for a little while, so I barely reply to her questions, and I go back to my room to relive the day in my head. Today was insane. Today was perfect.

My phone buzzes and I see a text notification from a number I don’t know.

_Hi Simon. It’s Bram. I got your number from Nick. I hope you don’t mind. I was wondering if you would like to come to my house on Saturday. I’ll provide Oreos._

As if there were any possibility I would say no to that.

 

Saturday can’t come quick enough. At school, we look at each other, we smile, we accidentally touch – which makes me forget how to breathe every single time – but we don’t kiss. We don’t really talk either.

We are in this weird limbo between being a thing and being nothing. I don’t particularly hate it. It’s much better than just being nothing. But I want more.

Plus, we can text now. It is very different from emailing. It’s a new territory for us and I love it. This idea of having more types of interactions with Blue, all being and feeling different, serving different purposes.

 

But Saturday is finally there, and ringing his doorbell feels both amazing and too much.

He opens the door and smiles at me. He looks genuinely happy to see me. That is the best feeling – knowing that Bram was waiting for me and is happy about us seeing each other as I am.

I get inside and he pulls me for a hug. He’s warm and soft, but more importantly, his smell is all around me, like it’s wraps around my body, and I take it in. I was right. I love it.

We go to his living room and he didn’t lie. He did provide Oreos. Blue and Oreos. Is this heaven?

“I thought about what you said in that classroom,” Bram tells me as I am mixing crushed Oreos and milk in a mug. “You know, about you wanting everything.”

I cringe. “It sort of came out on its own. I didn’t really think about it.”

“So it’s not what you want?”

I don’t want to pressure Bram, but I don’t want to lie either. “No, it is. But you know… on your own time.”

“That’s the thing. I think this is it. I’m ready. That kiss was… a revelation. Like it was exactly what I needed to finally be ready. I meant it when I said that I won’t pull you in the closet again. But if coming out mean that I get to do that again, then it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Bram, I…” but he’s leaning towards me, and I have to meet him halfway. Because I want this as much as he does. Maybe more.

Kissing was amazing the other day. It’s better now. We’re not in school, no one can walk in on us (I should at some point ask when his mother will come back) and I am more relaxed.

He pulls back, but just barely, keeping his hands on my face. “See… it’s just… _so good_.”

“It’s better than good,” I reply. He smiles, and looks at me.

“Those _eyes_ ,” he whispers before kissing me again.

 

“When did you realize it was me?” Bram asks.

“Oh… hum… it’s a bit embarrassing…”

Bram raises an eyebrow. “More than the dinosucker or the poop in the pool stories?”

“Fair point. Maybe not.”

“Besides, now that you said that, you have to tell me more. What can be embarrassing about you finding out it was me?”

“Okay so… you know when you tried to ring your phone? Well I tried to pick up, but I was a bit late, so I just saw the notifications, including my email. It was so unreal. I had something of Blue. Like… for the first time, you were a real person, you know?” He nods. “So, I… I slept holding the hoodie.” Bram’s eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. “And the other day in English, I… I recognize your smell…”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You know… from the hoodie…”

Bram smiles. “Well… thank God for that hoodie, then.”

I smile back. “Yeah.”

Bram takes my hand, and it’s crazy how something so small feels so big.

Bram seems lost in his thoughts for a second. I squeeze his fingers. “Where is your mind?”

“Sorry. Thinking about the hoodies brought me back to the museum for a second.”

I only now realize that Bram must have felt more overwhelmed than any of us. Black, gay, Jewish… He would have seen so many groups of oppressed people that he could have related to. “You stayed a long time at that counter,” I remember. “Why?”

Bram shrugs. “It used to be every second of every day for black people, not so long ago. I though I owed it to them to listen to it all and take it for two minutes.”

I slide closer to him and I hold him close. He holds me back, tight. I feel him relax a little in my arm. I love that we can be that. Maybe those long months of emailing one another means that we can already be that vulnerable with each other and it still feels comfortable.

When we let go, I feel like I need to change the subject. “So… a library as a lock screen. That’s so… you.”

He smiles.

“It’s the Trinity College library in Dublin,” he says. “It has a copy of every book published in the country, and they have some national treasures, like the Brian Boru harp, the Proclamation of the Irish Republic, or the Book of Kells…” Bram shrugs, looking a bit timid suddenly. “I saw a picture of the long hall when I was in seventh grade, and I got obsessed for a while. I asked my mother every day if we could go there. I didn’t realize then that it is half the world away.”

I smile. I can perfectly picture a younger Bram with stars in his eyes thinking about a library.

“My dad told me that he will have to spend a lot of time with little Fetus when he or she arrives. So, he wants us to go to Europe for three weeks the summer after senior year. When the baby is a bit older and he can leave my stepmother for a while without feeling guilty. It was the first time in ages that he talked about spending real time with me. And he said that we could stop in Dublin to see the library. It touched me. That he would remember that, and that he would want to take me there. I guess it rekindled my interest for the place again.”

“That’s great, Bram. I know it’s not as easy with your dad as it is with your mom.”

His eyes go soft. “It’s always quite unsettling. When I’m with you and I get that flash that you’re also Jacques. I mean… I _know_ you are the same person, but… sometimes it’s like I’m reminded anyway and that truth feels overwhelming every time.”

“Trust me… I know.”

He suddenly lets go of my hand and says: “Wait here a minute.”

I nod. What did he think I would do? Climb out of the window the second he left the room? I’ll wait here. Days, if he asks me to.

When he comes back, he is holding the hoodie. He looks a bit embarrassed and keeps shifting his weight from one feet to the other. He is so adorable it hurts. “I was wondering if… maybe you’d like to keep it for a while. The hoodie, I mean.”

As I said before, it’s a rather plain hoodie. But now it means so much to the story of me and Blue that I am actually quite honoured that he’s offering. I nod, he smiles, he hands me the hoodie, and I grab it delicately like I could break it. I’m not cold, but I put it on anyway.

There is a bit of pride in Bram’s eyes, and I’ll make sure to wear his clothes more often.

“Would you… give me something of yours?” he asks.

I give my hoodie – not the museum one – that I left on my bag. He takes it and puts it against his face. His smile grows wider and then he’s on top of me, kissing me again.

I soon have to take the hoodie off again, because even though it’s all quite chaste – his mom could come home any time – it’s still getting hot in here.

 

That night, I don’t even think twice before falling asleep holding the hoodie. It’s not weird or creepy anymore. I’m sort of hoping that Bram is doing the same thing in his own bed.*

This time it’s different. The hoodie doesn’t smell like a stranger. It smells like Bram. It brings me back to tangible memories. It’s just like the way he smells when he holds me against him. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel his lips on mine.


	13. What if it never came up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he was in junior year, Simon had an online boyfriend. But they never met, and after a while they stopped emailing. So Simon had to move on. Find another boyfriend, a real one, and move on. It's been years. He's build his life, he has a perfect relationship, and he is happy. But sometimes, his mind wonders, and he thinks about Blue again.

Simon is putting the last boxes into the closet. He is feeling weirdly emotional. That’s it. It’s their apartment. He is the second half of a domesticated couple.

He leaves their tiny storage room and walks back to the kitchen.

By the counter, chopping vegetables, is the most handsome man Simon has ever seen. He still can’t believe his luck. He is there. He agreed to be his boyfriend, and he never changed his mind. He was even the one who asked Simon if they could move in together.

Simon knows, in his soul, that there will never be someone more right for him. He might not have been the first boy he fell in love with – there was another one, in high school, but that’s Simon’s secret – but Simon is determined to make sure that he will be the last. That the two of them will remain this happy, forever.

He takes a moment to look at him. Soft eyes, long eyelashes, perfect lips, defined jaw, toned muscles…

“Simon, you’re staring.”

“I was thinking of how happy I am.”

The perfect lips move up to form the sweetest smile. “Any reason for that? Something that happened in your life recently?”

“Well, there is this thing about moving in with my high school boyfriend,” Simon admits. “But I’m mostly happy because of said boyfriend. So, nothing particularly recent, no.”

The mouth is full on grinning now, and he abandons the dinner preparations to come and kiss Simon. Simon is quickly pulling his boyfriend closer.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, a bit breathless.

“Not really,” Simon answers, looking at the two dark pupils who look at him in a way that leaves little doubt regarding their intentions.

“Do you want to christen _our_ bedroom?”

“I would very much like to.”

And Simon lets Bram drag him to _their_ bedroom _._

 

Bram Greenfeld. Simon is still unsure of how he got this lucky, but he makes sure to enjoy it every day.

When he was in junior year, Simon was sort of completely in love with this boy he never met. He was an online friend who was, like Simon, a closeted gay teen in a Georgian high school. They emailed almost daily, and it’s what helped Simon go through figuring out who he was, coming out, and building the confidence he lacked so much back then. But he didn’t know who he was. The two of them poured their hearts out to one another, but never shared anything about their daily life that would allow the other to figure out who they were. Not even first names. They were just Jacques and Blue.

Simon had this fantasy back then that one day, they would find one another, that they would realize that they are perfect for each other, that emails couldn’t even compete with real life, and that they would fall madly in love. He actually spent hours devising countless scenarios of how they could figure it out, how they would meet.

But that never happen. It simply wasn’t meant to be.

After a while, there started to be more and more time between their emails, until they simply stopped altogether. It wasn’t brutal. It just happened. They didn’t even say goodbye, as if they didn’t realize that their last email was going to be their last. Simon can’t remember if he was the one who didn’t reply to Blue or if it was the other way around. The email account doesn’t work anymore. Simon knows, he tried to log in a few years back. Blue is now only a ghost from his past. A missed opportunity.

Sometimes, Simon thinks about it and it makes him sad. Sometimes, it makes him happy, because what he had with Blue, however small it was, was still sweet, and deep, and once felt like everything.

But mostly, he is grateful. Because it is what led him to Bram. Without Blue, Simon would never had come out in high school. He would have waited until university, where he could have reinvented himself without it messing with his otherwise tidy life. But Blue gave him courage, and he came out in junior year.

Bram came out at the beginning of senior year. Cute Bram from lunch was gay. That’s probably one of the reasons things started to wither with Blue. With Bram, Simon could share everything he shared with Blue, plus all the details from his daily life. The things that form a real bond between people and lay the basis of a relationship.

It wasn’t love at first sight with Bram. And even when feelings started to develop, neither acted on it. They were both terrified that the other one would only be interested due to the lack of choice. Which led them to make a decision they both knew was stupid: they got together three weeks before leaving for college.

The three weeks were so perfect that they decided to give a shot a long distance, knowing that they were unlikely to make it.

But despite the three thousand miles between them, despite being able to see each other an average of four times a year, they made it work. Then Simon moved closer to Bram for work and things should have been easier, but Bram started law school, and even though the geography was better, the free time was way, way worse. But, again, they made it work.

Bram passed the New York bar, got offers from some of the biggest law firms, but decided to work for an association helping people with lower income access quality legal advice and representation. Simon got a job in communication for a company producing Broadway shows.

And finally, _finally_ , they moved together. After nearly eight years of being apart and fighting to keep their relationship alive through all the stress, the absence, the long nights with nobody to hold, and sometimes the loneliness. But their love, trust and faith in the future never flickered. They grew bigger and stronger each day. And now, they will be able to see each other every day, to have time together, to have real sex rather than phone sex, to live things together instead of telling the other what their day has been like, to even have the luxury to waste minutes doing nothing, because they have time, now.

That prospect makes Simon so happy he could cry.

Truthfully, he might actually have already. Just once. Or twice.

 

But as happy as he was about it, Simon was also a bit nervous. After being apart and long distance for so long, Simon wasn’t sure they would find their balance in this new dynamic. But a couple of weeks have passed, and they are more in love than ever. Living with Bram is easy. Much, much easier than anything they’ve ever done. If that’s what life is going to be from now on, Simon is ready to commit to it forever.

 

“What do we know about her?” Simon asks.

“That Garrett really likes her,” Bram answers.

“Oh, so, nothing, really…”

Garrett has a new girlfriend, and he is bringing her to dinner tonight. Simon knows that Garrett attached a lot of importance to what Bram thinks about the girls he falls for. So he introduces all of them to Bram, and Simon when the girl is around long enough. This time, since Bram and Simon are now a package deal, Simon will be there for the first meeting.

He knows that Garrett’s girlfriends are always a bit of a gamble. Most of them are extremely nice, and a couple of them became long lasting friends after the end of the relationship, but a few of them were also insufferable pests whose attraction no one understood.

Simon finishes setting up the table when the doorbell rings, and Bram goes to greet his best friend and his new love interest.

The girl is called Rose, and Simon notices immediately that she is particularly pretty. She has a small heart-shaped face, framed by strawberry blond wavy hair, pink cheeks, a tiny nose, and immense green eyes that are so mesmerizing that they turn every glance into a gaze. Simon finds himself staring so many times that he is relieved she knows he is gay, and that he is not actually trying to seduce her.

She is also the sweetest person he has ever met. She is interested in everything, she truly listens, and only talks about herself when the conversation directly leads to it. She has a warm, true smile that connects with her eyes and every time she laughs, Simon understands why Garrett is so smitten.

She is also very smart. She sounds very educated and seems able to comfortably discuss any topic. She also sees though Garrett’s nonsense and see him for the loyal, fun, supportive, intelligent person he is.

She seems admirative and amused at the bond between Bram and Garrett and she listens joyfully to all their high school stories that Simon knows off by heart by now. She even jokes about Garrett following Bram through the country to not become a sad abandoned puppy. Simon doesn’t think there would be a more accurate metaphor for a Bram-less Garrett.

At some point, Bram and Simon exchange a look that says ‘she’s perfect for him.’

 

“So…” Rose asks as Bram brings dessert, “how did the two of you meet?”

“I hope you are ready for it,” Garrett warns her, “because it’s a twenty-first century fairy tale.”

She looks at Simon with an increased interest in her eyes. “Really? Please, do tell.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Simon tempers. “But Bram and I are high school boyfriends. He was actually my first boyfriend. Everyone told us that we were just setting ourselves for a broken heart, that there were other fish in the sea, and that college would be filled with pretty gay boys. But we didn’t listen. We tried long distance. And we made it work.” He smiles at Bram who takes his hand and squeezes it softly.

Roses eyes sparkle when she sees it. “Oh, wow. I didn’t think those stories still existed nowadays. Getting together as teenagers and making it all the way through college, long distance, first jobs and just… still being together, in love and happy.”

“You’re saying that like we’re eighty,” Simon comments. “We haven’t had a lifetime together yet.”

“I know, but… I have seen so many couple break up because the distance was making them unhappy, or one of them was unfaithful, or they simply grew apart. We change so much in the years that follow secondary school. I still think this is a remarkable achievement.”

“Thank you,” Bram says, and he genuinely looks moved by the statement. “and it’s true that it was hard. I missed him every day. But we were fortunate enough to grow together and not apart, and… when everyone told me that I shouldn’t lock myself into a relationship so soon, that I should go out there and experiment, I never listened. Because Simon simply makes the other boys disappear. I never met anyone that had that kind of attraction on me.”

“Excuse me,” Garrett says, visibly taking offense. “Not _everyone_ told you that. I was always your number one fan, Spier.” Simon smiles and high fives Garrett. Oddly enough, he knows this sentence is more a truth than a joke.

“So, is he your one and only too?” Rose asks Simon. “Your first and last boyfriend?”

And he doesn’t know why, there is no reason for it, Simon's mind flashes straight to Blue. Simon never told anyone about him. Not even Bram. And although he doesn’t consider it lying, he knows he hasn’t been completely honest either. He also knows that now is definitely not the best time for such a confession, but she is looking at him with her gorgeous mesmerizing eyes, and the words come out of his mouth nearly on their own.

“Nearly. He is my one and only, and I hope with everything I have that he will be my last boyfriend. My last husband, maybe.” Bram’s eyes sparkle for a second “But even though he was my first real boyfriend, he wasn’t really my first boyfriend.”

Rose seems oblivious to the fact that Bram and Garrett got really still and quiet. It’s not the information itself, it’s more the fact that it is a new piece of information, and that it makes no sense that Simon would have kept that a secret for so long. “That doesn’t really make sense,” she says. “If he was your first boyfriend, why wasn’t he your first boyfriend?”

“Junior year. I sort of had another boyfriend.”

“Oh. And he wanted to stay in the closet?”

“No, not really. He came out to his family before I came out to mine. He is probably the entire reason I came out so soon.”

“Why was he just ‘sort of’ your boyfriend, then?”

Simon shrugs. “It was an online thing. We never even met. I was just sixteen, and I thought that it was possible to fall in love through a computer screen, and I was just really into him, you know? Maybe it’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” she says. “When I was fourteen, I was properly in love with Jack Skellinton, from the Nightmare before Christmas. At least yours was a real person you could interact with. Oh, and he probably had skin.”

Simon laughs, Garrett laughs, Bram doesn’t. He looks at Simon with an expression that the first man can’t read. After all this time, Simon was so sure he could read Bram like an open book. Apparently, he was wrong.

It lasts less than a minute, and then Bram is back to himself. The rest of the evening is light and fun, and everything is at it’s always been. But Simon can’t forget what he saw on his lover’s face. Has he just done the biggest mistake of his life by mentioning Blue? He knows that Bram won’t mind that there had been someone before him. But he might not get over the fact that Simon hid something for eight years.

When they leave, Rose and Garrett thank the other couple for the dinner and promise to be the ones to invite them next time. They walk away holding hands and they both look happy and in love. Simon really hopes that Garrett will keep this one. She was delightful.

And those eyes…

Bram closes the door, and looks at Simon with that same expression he had on his face when he talked about Blue. Simon’s stomach clenches uncomfortably. He needs to do some damage control, now, before Bram can blame him, before Bram says something unbearable, like ‘I can’t trust you anymore’, or ‘I don’t even know who you are’, or something less dramatic which would be much more like Bram and much more painful.

“Bram… I’m sorry about before. I’m sorry that never came up before. I should have told you.”

“I understand why you didn’t.”

“I wasn’t especially trying to keep it from you. It’s just…”

“Si,” Bram interrupts. “I _understand_ why you didn't.”

“You do?”

Simon still can’t read Bram’s face, and that keeps him from relaxing.

“I’ve kept something from you as well.”

Simon’s heart stops. If there were a boy before, that’s fine. Of course, that’s fine. But please, not during. Simon ignored all the people who told him that there was no way his long-distance-hot-soccer-body boyfriend would be faithful to him, because he was so sure. At this moment, he is not so sure anymore.

“What have you kept from me?” his voice is slightly shaking.

“The exact same thing,” Bram answers and Simon can breathe again. Another boy before. that’s fine. That’s perfect. He can live with that.

“So, you had a boyfriend before me?”

“Sort of. It was an online thing. We never even met. I actually thought I was the only one to be stupid enough to fall in love over emails.”

The room is extremely quiet. The only sound is the clock from the kitchen marking every passing second. Yet, inside Simon, the most incredible thunderstorm is happening.

“Bram… what are you saying?”

“Still today, I consider that it has been one of the hardest decisions of my life.”

“Which one?”

“Choosing between Jacques and Simon.”

It’s not even a storm anymore. It’s a full tornado that’s running through Simon’s head. All those years, and the truth was just there. The boy he couldn’t have and the boy he had. His first love and his true love. His past and his present. Fantasy and reality. All wrapped up in this man who still has the softest eyes and the nicest calves.

“Blue…” Simon whispers and another odd expression passes Bram’s face. But Simon understands now. He is just overwhelmed. He has never seen it before, because nothing has been this massive before.

“I was so in love with you,” Bram says.

“ _You_ were? I had to stop myself from kissing my screen, once.”

Bram laughs softly, but Simon can see that he is actually closer to tears. Then again, so is Simon.

Bram comes to stand in front of Simon, and caresses his face delicately, like it’s the first time. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“How did that never come up?”

“Blue and Jacques were very private people. I guess we just respected that even after it was over.”

“I guess, but… how did we not realize?”

Bram shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. We know, now. And it just makes our story even more beautiful.”

Simon could melt in that sentence. Because it is so true. Bram is so much more to him now than he was an hour ago. He is his one and only. His first and last. The person who helped him accept himself and come out. The first person to love him. Whenever that was. Maybe online love counts after all.

Simon kisses Bram. He’s done that countless times. But this time, it’s also sort of his first kiss with Blue. It took nearly a decade, but his fantasy finally came true. He met Blue. And he isn’t disappointed one bit. In fact, he couldn’t be happier.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994897)


	14. What if the story took place in space?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon was born on this spaceship. He will also die on it. He is only a passenger in a journey to a new world. When your life mission is to perpetuate the human kind, is there any place for being gay? And how does Blue fit in all of that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this one is clearly different.  
> But that's the point of this series, right? Trying out stuff?

Light can travel approximately three hundred thousand kilometers in a single second. That’s true for every particle with no mass. If we could travel that fast, we would have reached our destination a long time ago. But there is a huge difference between a particle with no mass and an inhabited spaceship.

From where I stand, our destination doesn’t exist. Because I will never reach it.

 

I was born on the Nautilus. Nothing to do with the animal. It is named after a fictional submarine. A Nautilus to explore the oceans, another one to conquer the stars. It would be poetic, if the truth wasn’t that I was born in a tin can, and that I will die in it as well.

We are called the lost generation. We didn’t know the Earth, nor anyone who did, and we will die before we get to the new planet we are supposed to colonize. Our children might see it, if they live long enough.

We have no past, no future, just the present. We will never know anything other than this place. I think I made my peace with that.

What I find harder to cope with are the implications that go with it. We were sent to allow the human kind to start new, somewhere else. Scientists found a hospitable planet, engineers built a spaceship that could travel space for generations, governments found some people crazy enough to be part of that adventure, and here we are.

Which means that we have a duty towards the human kind. We need to ensure that when we will deliver to this new world an educated, healthy, strong colony. Which means two things.

Number one: we have to get a job that is either useful to ensure survival on board, or a job that helps perpetuating the entire knowledge of our specie. And I don’t know if I can be fulfilled in any of that. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I know I don’t want to be a technician, a doctor, a teacher, a cook, a resources supervisor… The more jobs I list, the longer the list of jobs I don’t want to do gets…

Number two: we are expected to get married and have children. Two. Keep the balance. There is a very specific number of human beings on board, and we need to make sure that this number remains stable, and that the genetic pool keeps evolving. When we turn seventeen, we go through a medical examination, an interview (or rather interrogation – it was brutal) about our goals and aspirations, and an ancestry check. After which, they give us a list of people our own age we can marry. Usually a list of five people. If we are unhappy with the names, we can ask for them to provide us with a list of names from older still unmarried people. Or we can take a chance and wait the following year and see if your name will be put on someone’s list.

I got my list this morning. Only four names feature on this. My year was unbalanced. We have more boys than girls, so it makes sense that the lists handed out to the boys would be thinner.

Taylor Metternich. No thanks. Can you imagine a lifetime with her without anywhere to disappear or hide?

Clara Scott. I never even talked to her. She has shiny hair, big dreamy eyes, and I guess she is pretty. She just… seems like the kind of person I have nothing in common with. Otherwise, how could it be that we never formally met when we live in a closed space?

Lucy Martin. She wants to finish medical school a year early, be a nurse for two years, a doctor for ten, a surgeon for five, and then apply to be in charge of medical research. I don’t think I could be with someone who has their shit together already. It just doesn’t seem right. Isn’t enough of our lives planned out already?

Leah Burke. This one isn’t so bad. It’s not bad at all. I could be happy with Leah. I know I could.

 

Except I couldn’t. Not really. Because I’m gay.

 

It shouldn’t be a big deal. When we study Earth Societies in our Human Civilization class, we talk about it. It wasn’t unheard of over there. It was somewhat accepted. And the official position on the Nautilus is that there is nothing wrong with being homosexual.

In reality, it is very different. I don’t know any same-sex couple. I am sure there are some. They just hide. Because people are still expecting you to get married and have children. Perpetuate the line. Be a link in the chain. And I am sure that people put most of the pressure on themselves. Because we are intermediaries. A bridge between the previous generation and the next. Between Earth and our yet unnamed destination. And that can’t happen if we don’t have children. So then what are we. What is our purpose on board if not that?

Apparently, on Earth there was adoption. It is not a thing here. It is hard enough to keep track of everyone’s blood line to avoid consanguinity. Being gay and accepting it means letting all the line of Human existence before you die. And you might be okay with that. But you would still have to find someone else who would make that choice with you.

And that might be the biggest obstacle still. Finding someone. There are ten thousand souls on board. That is roughly five thousand males. Then you need to take away everyone that isn’t age appropriate. Even if you are generous with that notion, how many people are left? Then how many gay people? How many gay people you would get along and could fall in love with? Add to that the massive taboo around the subject, and it is nearly impossible to fall in love with another boy.

The odds are against you.

 

Except I have.

 

Blue appeared in my life almost a year ago, and he changed everything.

Everyone on board has a personal tablet. We can do a lot of things with them, but we can mainly log in the Network. There is a section there that we call the Grid, where teenagers can post things, anonymously or not. The surveillance there is known to be very loose.

That’s where he posted something that spoke to me. I don’t think that anyone else could have understood that someone was metaphorically confessing being gay, but it just spoke to me. All of it. I simply had to reach out.

We have been messaging ever since. I wasn’t looking for romance when I started this. I simply was desperate to find someone who was going through the same thing I was. Who could understand. Who I could talk to openly. And Blue has been that. That and so much more.

I started developing a crush, but I put it own to being able to be that honest with someone. I thought it was the context more than the person. But then it kept growing, and growing. Until I had to realize that I had fallen in love with Blue. Even though he is just words on a screen.

But I don’t know how to tell him that. Or even just that I would like to meet, in person. Or ask him if he is sometimes thinking about not getting married.

So I type something else instead.

 

_Encrypted message // Jacques to Blue // I got my list today_

_Blue,_

_That’s it. I got my list today. We are from the same year, so I am assuming that you did too. Only four names. Because there are more girls, maybe they will have boys to spare? That would be the greatest news ever, wouldn’t it?_

_Jacques_

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // I got my list today too_

_Jacques,_

_My list was lean as well. I’m not that interested in our year having spare boys. I’d settle for one spare boy. A specific one. That would be the greatest news ever._

_But availability has never been the real issue, has it?_

_Blue_

 

Blue’s message gives me mixed feelings. The first half twists my stomach. It’s a good twist, though. Blue would drop hints sometimes that he is interested in Jacques in more than a confident, but it’s always so elusive that I am never sure if I’m not just twisting his words to fit the reality I’d like. This time is blunter, however, and I am pretty sure that I am not reading too much into it. That Blue would want to be with me if it was possible.

But the second half feels like my stomach is reaped out of my body. And there is nothing pleasant about it. Because he’s right. Us being together is a nice dream, but it’s all it’s ever going to be. A fantasy. We simply don’t live in that world.

 

The next day, when I get to the lunch hall, Leah looks at me like I set her cabin on fire.

“Are you going to make this weird?” she asks straight away. She sounds snappy. I love the girl to bits, but she cannot cope with the unexpected.

“Leah, you’re the one making it weird.”

“Making what weird?” Nick asks.

“We made each other’s list,” I explain.

Abby’s eyes open wide and she puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God! _Oh my God_! This is _so_ cute!”

Leah frowns. “You do realize that just because Simon’s name is on a list I was given yesterday doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly madly in love with him, right?”

“Right. Of course.” But Abby blushes a little. She just has this romantic view of the world. Good for her, I guess. It’s harder for me, for obvious reasons.

“This whole thing is ridiculous anyway,” Leah complains. “Get married at twenty, and hope that you will have the perfect family. Otherwise people will just judge you. It’s like it’s children first and happiness second.”

Our table goes quiet. Garrett, Abby and Nick nod as if they understand. They don’t. Their families are picture-perfect. Two parents, two children. Exactly what society wants. It’s different for the rest of us.

Our families stand out for different reasons.

Leah’s father died a hero. He went on a mission outside to fix an important piece of the ship. He did not come back. Because they had only one child, after a couple of years, Leah’s mother was _advised_ to move on and marry again. There was only one name left on her list. Leah’s mother and stepfather do not get along. Everyone knows that. It’s not violent or mean, it’s just… two people being miserable together. Leah told me that they asked to get a divorce, but not getting along wasn’t a good enough reason. And, obviously, no other child.

My parents didn’t follow the pattern either. Just before finishing medical school, my mother saved the life of the Commander-in-Chief’s wife. It was before she decided to specialize in psychology. The Committee decided to award her a Special Recommendation. It basically meant that she could ask for any kind of derogation and it they would try to grant it to her. She asked for a third child. Apparently, her timing was right. There were a couple of families that had an only child, and very few unplanned pregnancies for a few years. Our fragile balance could handle an extra soul. That’s how we got Nora. It was entirely legal, so no one openly disapproved, but in facts it was different. Having three children means that someone might not be allowed a second one. People can even do some prison time if they have a third child and it is proven that it was premeditated. Nora even suffered from some bullying.

Bram’s family is something different entirely. His father had an affair. That happens. She was unmarried, much younger, and worked in his education center. It could have gone unnoticed and no one would have known. But she got pregnant. And that is really high on the list of things that people judge unforgivable. He fathered two different bloodlines. To try to make things better, he left Bram’s mother and remarried. It didn’t calm the gossiping. Bram never talks about it, and I never asked. Maybe I should. We are not really close, but I think we are friends. I should at least tell him that it doesn’t make any difference to me.

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // List frenzy_

_Jacques,_

_Has everyone about you gone crazy asking about lists too? Some of my friends appeared on each other’s list. That must be nice. Thinking that you at least know the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with and that you get along._

_It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would already be something._

_Blue_

 

I completely relate to his message. But it breaks my heart nonetheless. Blue’s mind seems pretty set on getting married. I understand. I think mine is too. But I have this weird fantasy that he would be the one that would get me courageous enough to live in the margin of society, but be true to myself, and be with the person I love. Be happy rather than content.

 

_Encrypted message // Jacques to Blue // List frenzy (2)_

_Blue,_

_Yes. Everyone is talking about it. My parents asked me if they could see it, but I sort of stalled. Just like you mentioned, I have the name of a friend on there, and I don’t want people to make a big deal out of it. Because I don’t know how I feel about it._

_It would be confusing even without the gay thing. It would be confusing even without the you thing. It’s just a lot. And I can’t tell people that. Only you._

_Jacques_

 

There is a room on the upper level of the Nautilus without any lighting. All the walls and seats are black, and it has large windows, offering a 360-degrees view of the immensity of space. Because of the stars, there is always this sweet, muted light, creating a calm atmosphere. We call it the Great Observatory.

It is my favorite place on board. I come here whenever I need to think, or when I want to clear my head. There is something about this place that makes people very quiet. I never heard a sound louder than a whisper in here.

When you sit there, the view seems static, but every day there is a small difference. Proof that we are indeed moving, at great speed, through the universe. Currently, we can observe a magnificent nebula.

I am staring at it when I hear footsteps on my right. Someone sits next to me. I don’t even have to look to know it’s Leah.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

“You’re always here,” she whispers back.

“Fair point.”

“So… should we talk about it? The list, I mean.”

I nod. “Yeah, probably. Should we go back to my cabin?”

She nods and we leave. I know she doesn’t want any of us to go to her place because the mood is always gloom over there. Plus, she gets along with Nora very well, but they never seem to hang out other than when she comes over.

 

Space on board is scarce. Which means that you don’t get more space than you need. Having three children means having a bigger cabin. We have four bedrooms, a living room, a dining area, a bathroom and even an office as my father works for the Leadership.

My room has a bed, a desk, some shelves and an interactive wall. I used to use it a lot, but I tend to be on my tablet more. I don’t want any of Blue’s messages to appear on the wall for everyone to see.

“I am not in love with you,” Leah says dropping on my bed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“It’s fine,” I answer. “I’m not in love with you either.”

Leah smiles. “Good. But I have been thinking about it. I am not in love with any of the others either. I remember my parents being in love, and it was wonderful. I look at your parents, and it looks like a dream. But I also know that sometimes love doesn’t last. Look at Bram’s parents. And when I look at my family situation now… Maybe harmony is better than love.”

“Leah… what are you saying?”

“That maybe we should consider the idea of getting married. It’s not going to be before a few years anyway, and we might find something better before then. We might postpone as well, but… I don’t think that life with you would be that bad.”

“Shouldn’t we aim for better than ‘not that bad’?”

Leah shrugs. “Of course, we should. It doesn’t mean that we’re going to get it.”

Blue flashes in my mind and my heart squeezes.

“Leah, I might not want to get married at all.” I say and my heart pounds. It’s the closer I’ve ever been to ever telling anyone.

“Really? Why wouldn’t you want to…” But she gets quiet. Leah knows me better than anyone. I think she sees things in me that no one else does. I can see her put two and two together, and she takes my hand.

“Simon… are you sure?”

I nod. Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t jeopardize my entire life if I wasn’t. But I don’t have the strength to say that at loud. It doesn’t seem like I need to. She looks like she gets it. Whatever _it_ is.

“What are you going to do?”

I shrug.

“Well I’m with you. Whatever you want to do. Whatever you need. Okay?”

That’s the best thing anyone ever said to me. There is this weight on my chest I never knew was there that lifts a little. It’s a bit overwhelming and I fill my eyes watering. Leah is weird about touching, but today she doesn’t even blink. She holds me tight and we hug for a long time. Long enough for all my tears to disappear.

 

_Encrypted message // Jacques to Blue // Marriage_

_Blue,_

_I always felt uncomfortable marrying someone and lying to them forever. That sounds not only dishonest, but also effort._

_It would be different though to get married to someone who knows, wouldn’t it? Maybe that wouldn’t be amoral. There wouldn’t be any deceiving._

_Is that the best we can hope for? Is that enough?_

_Jacques_

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // Coming out_

_Jacques,_

_Your message was confusing. Or you playing with the idea of someone knowing, or did you actually tell someone?_

_Coming out is that big massive leap of faith that I could only ever take with you. I have thought about it. A lot. Telling my best friend. Telling my mother. But then there is no coming back. I wouldn’t be able to lie to myself if it’s out there. I someone knows, and becomes a constant reminder of the truth._

_Part of me in convinced that your message didn’t come from nowhere. That you did tell someone. I must confess that I am a bit overwhelmed of how brave you are. That comforts and terrifies me all at once._

_I also feel like I need to apologize to you. Since we got the list, our messages are dark and almost desperate. I miss the lightness and hope they used to have._

_It sort of feels like we are at a crossroad, doesn’t it?_

_Blue_

 

It does. We have to choose the life we want. But here is the thing. Even if I don’t get married, it doesn’t mean that Blue will want me. It’s a choice I have to do for me. Regardless of him. But that’s frightening. The idea of being out there, out of society, without Blue.

No matter what I choose, will we still email? Is he simply going to become a secret from my youth that I think about when I’m older and bitter?

 

You get your list at seventeen, and you can get married when you are twenty. It gives you three years to get to know the people on your list. There is no rush. But people usually can’t wait and reach every name on the list rapidly. I understand the curiosity.

If I had a list of five boys that were compatible with me genetically and in terms of ambitions, I would want to meet all of them and hope that I would fall in love with one of them, that it would be mutual.

I simply don’t have any of that excitement for the girls on there.

Clara came to talk to me at lunch. I pushed her away, saying that I was already trying to figure out if another name on my list was right for me. She is about to say something when Leah grabs my hand, looking very possessive. Clara apologizes and leaves. I’ve never appreciated Leah more than right now.

Abby is literally jumping on her seat. “Really? Really? You are going to do this?”

“Abby, chill out,” Leah says. “It’s what Simon said. We’re just trying it out.”

I can see Bram and Garrett exchange a look. I’m not entirely sure what it means. I don’t dwell on it. It is a weird time for all of us.

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // Coming out (2)_

_Jacques,_

_I took my own leap of faith._

_I came out to my friend._

_Do you remember when we were young and the ship stopped spinning for a minute due to maintenance? Most of the students in my class thought it was hilarious and they couldn’t wait for it. I, however, thought it was terrifying. This moment we shifted from gravity to weightlessness was the scariest moment of my life. I was so afraid that we wouldn’t be able to start rotation again and that it would be our life forever._

_That’s exactly how today felt. Like this massive shift in everything I’ve known so far, not knowing if there was a possible coming back._

_But I am so glad I did it. It went so well. He told me that he already knew. Can you believe that? I couldn’t._

_We talked about a lot of things. And it made me think. About marriage. About me. About you._

_I don’t want to be too forward about this, but I think we should talk about it. Not message. Talk. Face to face. You and me._

_I don’t think I’m ready for it yet, but that’s something we need to do before committing to marrying someone, don’t you think?_

_Blue_

 

_Encrypted message // Jacques to Blue // Coming out (3)_

_Blue,_

_I am so proud of you for doing this. And you don’t know how relieved I am that it went well. I have been more scared for you than I am for myself._

_And of course I remember that day. I was so looking forward to it. But when it started, I was terrified too. It’s funny how wanting to experience something and living it are massively different experiences._

_Do you think that will be the same for us? What if this, the messaging, is our best?_

_Then again, that would solve part of the issue, I guess._

_Jacques_

 

Meeting Blue. I have dreamt about him so many times. I have looked at every boy in our year wondering if it might be him.

I try to remember who was scared about the gravity maintenance when we were young, but I can’t remember.

 

Leah has been great through this entire thing. We don’t really talk about it, but it is just soothing to have someone who knows. She is the perfect pretend girlfriend. She keeps the other names away. Taylor Metternich commented on it, saying that I was always one to make quirky choices. I’m pretty sure she meant not choosing her. I am also certain that she would not choose me either.

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // Peculiar proposal_

_Jacques,_

_My friend did something I did not know was possible. You know how gay couples don’t exist on board? Well it turns out, they do. One, at least. He found them, and he got them to agree to talk to me. To us if you want to join._

_I would entirely understand if you don’t want to, but I feel like this is something I have to do._

_There is no pressure there. But if you want to come with me, meet me tomorrow night at the Great Observatory._

_If you’re there, we’ll do this together. If not, we can still meet later. Whenever you’re ready. If ever you want to._

_Blue_

 

It is eleven forty-five and I still haven’t decided. I haven’t told Leah about this. This is about me. This is about meeting Blue, but this is also about hearing the truth about the future I am considering.

I would be stupid not to go.

Yet I keep looking for reasons not to. And the list keeps growing. It is much longer that the list of reasons to go.

But the reasons to go are more meaningful.

Unless I put my family’s needs before mine.

This is torture.

Eleven fifty.

Now or never.

 

So I went for now. I arrive in front of the Great Observatory a minute before midnight. The corridor is lit by the night lights, subdued and of a purply shade.

There isn’t anyone in the corridor. Blue is either late or inside. I open the door of the Great Observatory. It is even darker in here, especially in the small lobby. I climb the stairs leading to the rotunda. The place is entirely empty, except for someone standing in front of the window. It is a boy, around my age.

I feel my hands getting sweaty. This has to be Blue, right?

I take a step forward and he turns around. The light from the stars lights his face and I recognize him straight away. It’s Bram Greenfeld. I stop, totally in shock. I would _not_ have guessed that one.

“I thought it might be you,” he says, softly.

“I had no idea,” I confess.

Bram smiles. “I figured. For someone who spends that much time in here, you are not very observant.” It surprises me, that Bram would know things like this about me.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m a bit scared.”

“That’s fine. Me too. You can still change your mind.”

I don’t change my mind and I follow Bram through the ship. We go to the lower level. I don’t think I’ve been here since the last time I played hide and seek with Nick and Leah. In here you can find a few maintenance rooms and the smallest cabins on board. The ones for unmarried people.

We stop in front of one of them and Bram knocks.

The door opens on a man, roughly sixty, with a maintenance uniform and a happy warm smile.

“You must be Bram. And…”

“Simon. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m John. Please come in.”

The cabin is smaller than I expected, but it’s still nice. There is a small sitting room joined to a tiny kitchen and the back wall opens to a bedroom with a double bed. There is a door there, leading either to a closet or a bathroom.

“It’s not much, but it’s mine,” John says. “Please, have a seat.”

In the room, there is one armchair and two stools by the kitchen counter. We sit on the stools and face John.

“Are you two together?”

“No,” I say, just as Bram says: “Sort of.”

My head spins towards him. Blue. Bram. Sort of my boyfriend. It is more than I could have asked for. It’s still so much to wrap my head around. He misreads me though, because he looks apologetic.

“I see,” John says. “It feels like déjà-vu. I was in your shoes, a few decades ago. Let me guess. You just got your lists?”

Bram and I both nod.

“Believe it or not,” John continues, “you are not the first boys to come to me. You are not even the first ‘sort of’ couple. Not that any of them made the choice I did. They all married. Most of them have children, now. I keep an eye on them, from afar. You know… checking signs of depression and stuff. It happens.”

“Did you advise them to get married?” Bram asks.

“Some of them, yes. Not all of them.”

“Why did they, then?” I ask.

“Because it is an impossible choice. The pressure of society and the interests of your family can be worth more than the advice of a stranger.”

“But you… never married?” Bram asks.

“No.”

“Has it been lonely?” I ask.

A strange, sad smile spreads on John’s face. “No. In my year, three of us were gay. Tim, Louis and me. Tim and Louis got together. I believe it was more down to availability and that didn’t last. But we all decided not to get married anyway. Because of that, we were given cabins in the lower levels. Here, people stick together. When you don’t have a family, that’s what you do. You create one. Along the way, I met Charlie. He was two years older than me, he was gorgeous and he just… swoop me off my feet. We had forty fantastic years together. Then he died in an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” Bram says.

“Don’t be. Forty years with the love of my live. It’s more than most.” There is an almost painful truth in that.

“Have you ever regretted it?”

“Sure. Regularly. But far less than I would have regretted not doing it. I was happy every day. Not all the time, but every day. I was able to be myself.”

“How come that we don’t know about you?” I ask.

“Because you never looked. The lower level doesn’t have much contacts with the other levels. We have our own dining area, and… we are not judged here. I am the only one who talks openly about my story, but I know other men or women who are neighbors officially, but much more officiously. The Family Committee knows about it. Our relationships are… approved, sort of. That’s why we are given joined cabins. We are not advertised, though. Because they need people to decide to have family. To perpetuate the chain. Survival of mankind. That’s the whole point of our existence on board, isn’t it?”

“Was that hard to give up? The children, the chain…”

John thinks for a minute.

“I would lie if I just said ‘no’. But… Charlie showed me that your existence can matter without children. I make sure that our oxygen is renewed and stays pure. Isn’t that as important as having children? And Charlie was a teacher. Educating the next generation… isn’t that as important as making the next generation? What do you want to do with your lives?”

“I want to be an engineer,” Bram says. “Work on the scavenging drones.”

“Very ambitious. Is it realistic?”

“He is top of our class,” I answer without even thinking. Bram blushes and John’s smile spreads wider.

“Great. What about you, Simon?”

I shrug. “I don’t know yet. It doesn’t feel like the biggest decision I need to make right now.”

Bram looks around the cabin. “So… the lower level. Is that our future?”

“Probably,” John admits. “And your families might not accept you. Your friends might turn on you. People might think that you are worthless. It will be hard. But it doesn’t mean that you should let that dictates the way you live your life. Society can never change if nobody does anything. It takes a lot of courage to be the first one, or even second or third, because your life will be hard. You might not see any improvement, and in a way you are only doing this for others. But if no one is willing to make that sacrifice, it also means that we are fine with things staying the way they are. I did not have children. I am technically not in the chain anymore. But if I have been a part of people like us having a place in the world we are going to create, that will have been a life worth living.”

John’s tablet starts flashing.

“You are welcome to come back anytime, boys. But I am doing a night-shift today and I need to go. You probably want to talk privately. Stay here for a while if you want to.” He looks at the two of us. “Whatever you decide… good luck, boys.”

 

And Bram and I are alone. We have so much to talk about. But now, the only thing I want to say is: “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Perfect student, perfect athlete… I just pictured you as the perfect citizen, I guess.”

Bram frowns. “You heard about my family, right?”

“Yes, but… your father… that’s not you.”

Bram smiles softly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“My father decided to disown me.”

“What?”

“Because he is remarried and he has only one previous child, he can. I now count as my mother’s heir, and my father can have his perfect two-children-family with his new wife.”

“Bram, I’m really sorry… that’s awful.”

“I guess that means that my mother will be given a smaller cabin when I am given my own. Maybe somewhere in the medium or upper levels, but… I guess here. People feel bad for her. They don’t like that feeling. Out of sight, out of mind, right?”

“Bram…”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. She would live here, I would live here… John didn’t look unhappy. There is no school in the lower levels. Charlie worked upstairs. He was maybe even one of our teachers.”

“Does that mean you’ve made your decision?”

“No. see… It’s always going to be my mom and me now. Just the two of us. If I don’t have a family… that affects her too. Also… I can see the effects of my dad leaving on her. I don’t know what having an openly homosexual son would do to her.”

I don’t know what to answer to that. I understand where he’s coming from. But I can’t entirely sympathize. My parents are the perfect couple. My older sister is talking about marrying Theo. Nora wants to join the pilot team. I would be the only dark shadow on our family. Whereas Bram, currently, is the outstanding spotless one in his.

So I change the subject. “Scavenging drones, uh? I thought you liked literature.”

“I do. Very much. That doesn’t mean I want to make a career out of it. We can be more than one thing, Simon.” We both smile. We understand more than most that statement. “I just always found them incredible. Leaving us to go collect useful resources on the planet, comets, or even gas clouds close enough and return with resources so precious for our survival. But I think we can make them better. I have ideas already.”

“Of course you do.” Because that’s how amazing the combination of Bram and Blue would be.

“What do you want to do. I know you said you’re not sure, but… If you had to go with your guts.”

“I would like to be in the entertainment company. An actor maybe. Or a stage manager. Or just a crew member. I just don’t think I have the courage to really pursue this as a career.”

“You should. I’ve seen you in Oliver. You were great. You looked happy, too.”

I look at him, and I really, really want to touch him. I think he has the same urge, because he puts his hand on the counter, very close to mine. I shift mine and our fingers touch. Not even touch. Brush. Yet it’s the most intense thing I have ever lived in my entire life.

“What do you want to do?” Bram asks.

“I think we should sleep on it.”

He nods. “My mother will be at the hospital all day tomorrow. I’ll be home all afternoon. If you want to come and talk some more…”

 

Bram’s cabin is smaller than mine, but not much. It was clearly given to his family when his parents were together, and it was expected of them to have a second child. In his bedroom, he doesn’t have any interactive wall, but he has an interactive desk. On it, there are drawings and plans for what I assume is a new version of scavenging drones.

“That looks…” I start. “I actually have no idea what that looks like. Other than complicated.” He laughs and invites me to sit down. I sit by his desk and he just leans on the wall, a few feet away.

“Have you slept on it?” he asks.

“I have.”

“Me too. Do you know what you want, now?”

“Bram… there is something I need to know.”

“Anything.”

“If we do this… Do we do this together, or do we do this… _together_?”

Bram stares at me. For a long time. I think that maybe he didn’t understand what I meant. But then he puts his hand on his desk, types a password, and the plans disappear, immediately replaced by every single message I ever sent him.

“Simon… I wouldn’t even be considering doing this if it wasn’t for you.”

We lock eyes, and I feel my heart racing. Then one of us moves, and our lips connect. It was probably me, because I’m not sitting anymore. Kissing Bram is like… things make sense. Maybe for the first time. This feels right. Everyone, forever, is going to tell me that it’s wrong. Even amongst the people who will support us, most will still think that something about it isn’t right, or true, or good. But that’s not how it feels. It feels perfect.

When we break the kiss, we are both out of breath. “Bram, that was…”

“I know.”

“It changes everything.”

“Does it, though? We knew it would be like that. Now we simply have proof.”

“Knowing something and living something is not the same.”

“I know.”

But there is a sadness in his eyes. His mind is leaning on way, and I don’t think it’s toward us.

“I am going to tell my mother,” Bram says. “Because she deserves to know, not because I made up my mind. Then… then, I think I’ll be ready to decide. One more day. I need one more day.”

I nod. There is something I need to tell him. Before he chooses. Before he has to make that decision. “Bram… I don’t know either what I want to do, and I hope that we’ll both choose the same, but… in case we don’t… In case I come out to the world and you don’t… I need you to know that I understand, and I forgive you.”

Bram exhales shakily. “Same here, Spier.”

I put my lips on his again, because it might be my last chance ever.

One more day. Then I’ll know which future to plan for.

 

I am sitting in the Great Observatory, looking outside. But even the stars look drab today. I hear footsteps coming towards me, and I look up. It’s Bram. He has the most glowing smile I’ve ever seen. He’s so beautiful it hurts. I want to cry.

“I did it,” he whispers sitting next to me. “I told my mother. She was incredible. She told me that it was fine. That she would be by my side through anything. That it was my decision and that I should do what makes me happy, not what makes other people happy. Because the world, no matter how hard you try, will never think that you are perfect enough.”

He looks around and because no one’s there, he takes my hand. His is warm and soft. It hurts like I’ve been stabbed.

“I want to do this, Simon. I want you. I want to try us. I want… what’s wrong?”

“Bram, I… I can’t.”

His face just… breaks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that hurt in my entire life. I just want to wrap my arms around him, hold him and tell him that everything will be okay. Except it won’t.

“You inspired me, yesterday. I told my mom too. She did not react like yours.”

“Okay.”

“She said that… She said that I would regret it. That it was unlikely I would find a boyfriend, and that even if I did, statistics are still not on my side for it to last. She knows about John and Charlie. She says they are the exception. That other couples have imploded or had issues. As bad as one committing suicide. She said it had more to do with the world we live in than the relationships themselves, but she also said that I am stuck in that world. That is the world I will have to live in. And she said that I wouldn’t be able to change my mind even if I regretted it. That I would already have thrown my life away.”

“We can go through that. I know we can.”

“Then she asked me to think about Alice and Nora, and how it would impact their lives.”

Bram looks slightly panicked. I think it’s because he understands. Family comes first. He was willing to put his mother first, so he can’t blame me for putting my sisters first.

“Simon… are you saying no?”

“I don’t know, I… I was so sure I wanted you yesterday. Today, however. I could marry Leah and fake my way through an easy life. You would find someone else, because you are that amazing. Everyone would be happy.”

“Everyone but you.”

I have to fight so hard not to cry right now. He’s there. He’s _just there_. And he wants me. But I can’t. I really don’t think I can.

“Bram, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand, and I forgive you, remember?”

That’s the sentence that breaks me. There is nothing I can do anymore to keep the tears inside. I must be the luckiest person in the world that nobody else is here. Bram moves, as if he was going to hug me, but stops himself.

There is no doubt in my mind that I’m in love with him.

He squeezes my hand briefly, and then he’s gone.

 

_Encrypted message // Blue to Jacques // Things I didn’t get to say_

_Jacques,_

_I meant it. I understand, and I forgive you. We’ll go back to being friendly, less than that, if that’s what you need. But I think we need to stop messaging for a while. Maybe forever. I don’t see the point in hurting the both of us more._

_There are a few things I didn’t have a chance to say, so I’ll do it know. You don’t even have to read it. I just needed to put them out there._

  * _I am still going to do this. Even if on my own. Because even if I made this decision thanks to you, I didn’t make it_ for _you_
  * _It meant the world to me that you came to meet John. That I wasn’t alone taking this step._
  * _I will always cherish what we had. The messaging. The finding each other. That kiss._
  * _I love you. All of you. Mind, insecurities, star-eyes, bed-head… there isn’t a part of you that doesn’t make me want to be with you. You’ll always be my first love. Even when that story will be nothing but a distant memory._
  * _I’ll wait for you. In case you change your mind. Our timings might be off right now, it doesn’t mean our time won’t come._



_Love,_

_Bram_

 

I am reading the message for the hundredth time – every time, it feels like I’m swallowing fire, but I can’t stop. Because it also feels like heaven – when I hear a knock on my door. It’s Nora.

“Hey. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, uh… Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“You’ve been sad lately, and Mom had been acting weird, and… Alice didn’t know anything, so I asked Leah.”

My stomach turns to lead. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing, really. She just… let me assume until I guessed right. Then I confronted Mom, and… Simon, you can’t do this for me.”

“Yes, I can. Nora, people are already going to point fingers at you for being a third child. You know they do. Do you remember Ben?”

“He was a _fifth_ child.”

“Yes. And the fact that you know that, and said it like that, is proof enough, isn’t it? You don’t want to be a third child _and_ the sister of the openly gay kid who decided not to marry to live in sin with another boy.”

“So, there is someone?”

“Nora…”

“Simon.”

“Yes. There is someone. But it doesn’t matter. I decided to put you first.”

“You are not, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simon… If you have other reasons, that’s fine. You have to do what’s right for you. But if you’re doing this for me… don’t.” Her eyes go watery and her voice starts shaking. I am not sure what’s going on.

“Nora? Are you alright?”

“I want you to be happy. I would hate to be the reason you’re not. But also… Si… If you have it in you… I _need_ you to do this.”

“Why?”

“So it won’t be so hard when I do it.”

“Wait… What? Nora, are you saying…?”

We both stare at each other, breathing fast. This is an epic moment. Let’s forget Bram, or coming out, or anything else. This is the most important moment of my life.

“It’s… it’s Leah,” Nora says. And the world both explodes and falls into place. Nora and Leah. How did I not see it?

“Nora… is that the life you want?”

She can’t say it out loud, so she just nods.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Of course, I won’t. It’s yours to tell.”

We are both full on crying now. Before I know it, we are hugging tight. Like we used to when we were kids, but stopped the moment we became teens. I never felt this close to Nora before. Not because we both came out, simply because she came out to me. It feels larger than the universe. I’ve never been so touched in my life.

She was the last obstacle between me and my happiness. And now, because fate is a playful lady, me getting my happy(ish) ending can help her get hers.

 

Bram. My mind goes straight to Bram. Bram who’s _waiting for me_. I can’t let him wait any longer. I have to go find him. I have to tell him. I have to kiss him.

Tonight, I want to be with him, be careless and be happy.

And tomorrow, we can start trying to change the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990439)
> 
>  
> 
> So my mind went all over the place for this one, and I think I just had enough ideas to start an entire new story of 20 chapters, so I had to condense (even though that might still be my longest chapter). I hope it still works.


	15. What if they were girls?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between school, play practice, her sister's soccer games and her emails to the mysterious Blue, Simone has a really busy life. It all gets even more confusing when she starts developing this crush on who might be Garrett's girlfriend, Becca Greenfeld.

It’s the first day back, and my friends are discussing their holidays. If I were a better friend, I would pay attention. If I had survival skills, I would also be paying attention to my meal that’s getting cold. My brain, however, is not currently interested in any of that. My mind is neither here, nor now. My train of thoughts took me back to the email I received yesterday.

Blue came out to her father during the Christmas break. Which means that she is now out to both her parents. She keeps saying that she is not ready to be out to the world, but she still took those two massive steps whilst I’m still very much locked in my own closet.

Someone snaps their fingers in front of my eyes.

It’s Leah. “Earth to Simone.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Are you going to the soccer game tomorrow?”

“Which one?”

“What do you mean ‘which one’?” Nick asks. “How many soccer games are there?”

“Two, actually,” Garrett replies. “The girls’ team is playing too. They’re going to that school in Roswell.”

“I still can’t believe that you have a Roswell in Georgia,” Abby comments.

“Yeah well, it’s as interesting as the other one would be without the alien thing,” Leah says.

“But they have a female soccer team and there aren’t that many schools around who do. So, to answer your question, Nick, I love you like a brother, but I have a real sister playing the other game, so that’s where I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” Nick says, shoving some more fries in his mouth.

“Leah, where are you going,” I ask.

“You really phased out, didn’t you? I’m not going to either. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow after school.”

Nick and Garrett will obviously be playing the male team’s game. Abby will be there too, since she’s on the cheerleading team.

Which means it will be just me going to Nora’s game. And Becca, but she’ll be playing, and we don’t really talk that much anyway. Actually, I don’t think I ever had a conversation with her.

Becca Greenfeld joined her lunch table shortly after moving here from Savannah. She is really quiet, very academic, but I have this theory that she is very funny in her head. I don’t know why. It’s just a vibe I get from her.

The only person she really speaks to is Garrett, and he seems to be fiercely protective of her. People – I should say gossipy people – say that they are in a relationship. I’m not sure about it. They clearly have chemistry together, but why would they hide being in a relationship? It doesn’t help that Garrett’s answer every time he’s asked the question is ‘No comment’.

Martin Addison told me once that Becca told him that Garrett is the love of her life. I really can’t picture Becca saying that. Especially to Martin.

 

Talking about Martin, today after school is play practice.

But I have a really minor role in the play, so I mainly just sit there and watch the frenzy happen around me. Today, Cal Price it trying to get the singer – so not me, I don’t even have a single line – to work together rather than trying to outshine each other.

We all know he means Taylor.

But to be fair to her, she doesn’t have to try that hard to be the best. She just is. However annoying she can be, when she opens her mouth – to sing, not talk – she is captivating.

Abby is stuck there with them, so I get my phone out. There is an email from Blue and there is this feeling in my stomach, like every time I see her name popping on my phone.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 07 at 07.12 AM

SUBJECT: Re: I did it again!

 

Jacqueline,

Yes, it is exactly like you said. The storm, the quiet, all of it.

But I disagree about what you said about yourself. Not being able to come out to your family doesn’t make you a coward. It is your thing. You can come out to them in twenty years if that’s your timing. You need to make sure that the timing is right for you and for them. Forcing things would only end up upsetting or hurting someone. And I don’t want you to be either of those.

Besides, I have this feeling that you are the kind of person that will go from the closet to fully out. No baby steps. Whereas I could tell my parents, but I don’t feel anywhere closer to being able to be out the rest of the world.

And to answer your question: yes, my father managed to ‘out-weird’ (you know that’s not a word, right?) Hotel Hanukkah. His response to me coming out was simply that he is relieved, because he is happier to send me out on a date with a girl than any teenage boy. To which he added ‘You know. Hormones.’ I get his point, but it’s not like girls don’t have hormones.

Your dad can’t possibly be more awkward than this when you do come out.

Blue.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 07 at 3.47 PM

SUBJECT: Yes, he can.

 

Blue,

I would totally be fine with my dad letting me date girls because he finds them nonthreatening. It is an odd thought process, but if my dad sees me coming out as any kind of silver lining, I’ll take it.

No, my dad is… probably going to make jokes. Or try to avoid talking about it. Or something I haven’t even thought about. And that’s only if he’s fine with it.

To be fair, I can’t really picture a scenario where my parents aren’t okay with me coming out. Which makes me wonder what terrifies me the most. I can’t put words on that feeling that everything will be different then and that I don’t know if I’m ready for that life. But I know you’ll understand. Because you always do.

On another not, is it weird for me to say that you stating that girls have hormones too almost sounded like you talking dirty to me?

I can’t believe I’m sending you that.

Jacqueline.

 

Then I put my phone away just as Abby comes to sit next to me. Apparently, Cal is giving up for the day, and even Taylor is not on stage anymore.

Abby sits next to me, puts her head on my shoulder, and links her arm with mine. Abby is the only huggy person in my group of friends, and I guess it made me realize that I am too.

Martin sits next to us and says: “You look cosy there, girls. Love in the air?”

I stiffen but Abby just laugh it off. I guess for her, and probably Martin, it’s just a silly empty joke. It’s easier when there is no truth behind it.

Martin looks directly at Abby and says: “Not that it wouldn’t break my heart.” Oh God. Could he be more obvious? Abby doesn’t seem to see that he’s interested, or maybe she just pretends not to see it. It must be that, because his comments are less and less subtle every time. Then, he gets even more obnoxious because he adds: “Not that I wouldn’t share.” And then he winks.

Ah yes. The lesbian sex joke. Very funny Martin. Very unheard of, too. For the first time, I think I’m going to reply, say something back.

But I can’t, because Taylor freaking Metternich does it first. “Yes Martin. I am sure you would love to see your girlfriend with another girl. You might learn a thing or two, and then maybe have a vague idea of what to do.”

Damn, Taylor. There is a good side to you after all.

Martin blushes, babbles something and then lets it go. I know I shouldn’t be happy about someone being humiliated, but it still feels like a win.

 

We are in my car and I am driving Abby home after practice. It is a detour, but I don’t mind.

“I think we did really well today,” she says. “And Taylor can be annoying, but her voice is inspiring.”

“Taylor has her moments,” I say.

“Like with Martin? He is an idiot, but I don’t think he meant anything malicious.”

Suddenly, I feel this urge coming from my guts. I need Abby to know. To know that piece of me that I have been keeping from everyone but Blue. But also to understand that Martin’s comment, even if it wasn’t malicious, still made me uncomfortable.

“Abby. Can I tell you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

The music seems to fall away. We’re stopped at a red, and I’m waiting to turn left, and all I can hear is the frantic clicking of my turn signal. I think my heart is beating to its rhythm.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I say. “No one else knows this.”

She doesn’t speak, but I perceive her angling her body toward me. Her knees are folded up onto the passenger seat. She waits.

I didn’t plan to do this tonight. Should I backtrack? But Blue flashes through my mind and how she came out to both her parents. If she can do that, then I can do this.

“I think I’m in love. With a girl.”

It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud. I pause with my hands on the steering wheel, waiting to feel something extraordinary. The light turns green.

“Oh,” says Abby. And there’s this thick, hanging pause.

I turn left.

“Simone, pull over.”

There’s a little bakery ahead on my right, and I pull into its driveway. It’s closed for the night. I put the car in park.

“Your hands are shaking,” Abby says quietly. I look down at my hands and she’s right. I take them off the wheel and cross them on my lap.

“When you say you’re in love with a girl, do you mean…”

“I’m a lesbian,” I interrupt her. Because I don’t want her to misinterpret this. Because it’s Blue, but it’s not just Blue. It’s girls. Girls and no boy ever. Even though when I was thirteen, I tried to convince myself that I was in love with Nick because it would have made everything so much easier.

“This is the first time you’ve told anyone?” she says, after a moment.

I nod.

“Wow.” I hear her take a breath. “Simone, I’m really honored.”

I lean back and sigh and twist my body toward her.

“Are you surprised?” I say.

“No.” She looks at me directly. Lit only by streetlights, Abby’s eyes are almost all pupil, edged thinly with brown.

“You knew?”

“No, not at all.”

“But you’re not surprised.”

“Do you want me to be surprised?” She looks nervous.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Is it going to make things weird between us?”

She reaches for my hand, squeezes it, and laces our fingers. “Of course not. It’s still you.”

It’s weird. I almost think I did this for Blue. A practice run before telling my parents. Taking me a step closer to Blue.

“What are you going to do?” Abby asks. “Are you going to tell people?”

I pause. “I don’t know,” I say. I haven’t really thought about it. “I mean, eventually, yeah.”

“Okay, well, I love you,” she says.

She pokes me in the cheek. And then we go home.

 

I hate soccer. I don’t really hate it, I just find it boring. And I keep being dragged to Nick and Nora’s game. In a way, it’s a bit of a blessing that this week both games are on the same day, because at least I can skip one.

I prefer the girls’ games. The audience – is it an audience when it’s not for a play? I don’t know – here is friendlier. Less testosterone, maybe.

There is something else that’s not boring about girl soccer, it’s the girls. Especially their legs. The space of skin between their shorts and the top of their high socks always catches my eyes. I always wonder what it would be like to touch it. I know it’s weird. I should probably be into butts and boobs, right? Isn’t that what straight boys are into? Then again, maybe that’s just a cliché too. Maybe I should ask Nick or Garrett before assuming. If I feel misportrayed by society and pop culture, perhaps they do too.

Also, and it is very unfair because the male team gets all the credit, but the girls are better. Their technique is less rough, their team spirit is stronger, and they win more often. Yet they don’t get the cheerleaders, the scholarships or even the glory. Even their trophies don’t go in the same cabinet. The boys’ are in the main hall. The girls’ are in by the gym.

I take a sit in the front row, just behind our team’s empty bench. All the girls are already warming up on the field. It’s cold, and some of them are wearing long sleeves under their jersey, but all of them but the goalkeeper are in shorts anyway. Yep. Much better than Nick’s game already.

I have a look at my phone, but there is nothing from Blue. I’m not surprised, she probably has a life out of texting me, but I always have this empty feeling in my chest when I check my screen and there aren’t any notifications from my secret email account.

I hear a sound that makes my eyes detach from the screen. One of the girls is laughing and it’s the purest, most crystalline sound I’ve ever heard. But it’s also real and honest. My eyes scan the crowd and stop on Becca. Right now, her face is so carefree. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that. She looks so pretty that my mind goes blank for a minute.

When I manage to focus again, the game is starting. I’m here to watch Nora, but I can only see Becca. It’s very confusing. I never really thought about her that way before, and I don’t think it will last, but in this moment, I am so entranced by her. Her face, her legs, her thin braids pulled up into a ponytail…

I remember when I was in sixth grade, I wanted braids. I cried when Alice told me that I could never pull it off. Looking at Becca now, I know she was right. As sad as that truth is, I am a really plain person.

Other than this odd emerging crush on Becca, the game is actually pretty entertaining. Nora plays for most of it and nearly scores a couple of times. Becca does score once. Another girl whose name I don’t know scores twice. The other team scores once.

When the game ends, I am proud of Nora. She did well. I don’t know if she ever felt that when she saw me on stage. I hope so. Not for me, but because it is a nice feeling, to be proud of your family.

 

I am waiting on the parking lot for Nora to be showered and changed. We both agreed on that when I started driving her to games. No sweat on my car seats.

Becca gets out of there after most of the team, but before Nora.

“Hi, Simone. Nora should be done soon, but she had to wash her hair, there was a bit of mud there.”

“Then she will not be done soon,” I comment. Three sisters, one bathroom. We know each other’s hygiene habits pretty well. It’s easier to share now that Alice is at uni, but out of the three, she was probably the less needy.

“Would you like some company?”

I shrug. “You probably can’t wait to be home, and it’s almost a one-hour drive. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind,” she says, and she puts her bag own before sitting next to me.

“It was a great game,” I say.

“Thanks.”

“Have you played soccer for a long time?”

“No, it’s quite new, actually. When I was four, I did ballet. I continued until I was thirteen.”

“Why did you stop? Did you get bored?”

“No. It was the shoes.”

“What?”

“When I was twelve, I started to work on pointes. It was pretty, and challenging, and everything I loved. I thought the bruises and blisters would get better. It didn’t. I just… wasn’t tough enough, I guess.” She says that with an easy smile on her face.

“So you don’t dance anymore?”

“I do. Sometimes. Just not in those horrible ballet shoes.”

“So… From ballet to soccer?”

“Absolutely not. In my former school, in Savannah, I played basketball. There wasn’t a girls team, but we could practice with the boys. Just not compete. It was fine, though. It was all about the sport, and having fun, and I think we all enjoyed that idea of being in a mixed team. It worked well. But here, there are no mixed teams, and it was soccer or hockey. I decided to have a go at the old continent’s football, just to see if I liked it.”

“I guess you did.”

“I guess I did,” she agrees. “The sport is fun, but the team is great. That was the big selling point. And it’s nice to compete.”

“Especially when you win all the time,” I say.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt,” she says and there is this easy smile on her lips again. I’m not sure why we never spoke before. It’s easy and it’s nice. It doesn’t help with that crush, though, and I summon Blue’s image in my mind to make this new feeling fade away. It is somewhat effective.

“Talking about success, how is the play going along?”

“Fine,” I say. “I don’t really have a big part in it, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll be breath-taking regardless.”

I just have to smile back, now.

That’s when Nora appears from the changing room. “I was thinking in the shower,” she says when she is close enough to us. “It’s a bit of a waste to use two cars for games, isn’t it? I know the school wouldn’t use the minibus for our team, but maybe we should carpool next time. Becca doesn’t live that far from us, and she’s the only player we both know.”

It is actually a very sensible idea, so we all agree on it and Becca says that we can work a schedule out next lunchtime. Then she jogs to her car and my heart does this weird thing that I wish it didn’t do.

 

Weeks go by with this new routine. We start applying it not only to game days, but also for the evenings play and soccer practice end at the same time. Which means that we carpool in the mornings too then.

Becca, who was barely a background character in my life is now at the forefront of everything. And that crush is still there. Actually, I think it’s growing.

But she’s still second best. Blue’s emails are still the highlight of my day. Every day. She makes me laugh. She makes me hope. She makes me wonder. She makes me try. She makes me hot. I’m not entirely sure, but it sometimes feels like she is flirting, real flirting, and that confuses me too. Are we in a relationship? We share everything, we are flirting… If we were that close in real life, she would feel like my girlfriend. I don’t know how to ask her if this is how she feels too. I don’t know how to ask her to take things offline.

That consumes me. I don’t think I ever wanted anything that badly in my entire life.

 

It’s Wednesday night, and today was shit. Like… properly shit.

Yesterday, I finally worked up the courage to ask Blue to meet for real. Which felt like this massive step which would finally be what allows me to be free and to find the strength to come out to the world. Or at least to my parents. But this morning, I woke up to an email from Blue basically saying that she doesn’t think it’s our time yet. I understand where she comes from, but it still stung when it came.

Then I got to school early, because Nora is ill today, so I didn’t have to wait for her to dry her hair. Like honestly, the girl doesn’t use any make up or products, but still spends over an hour on her hair every single day. Being early means empty corridors. Except not that empty, because Garrett and Becca were talking by his locker. I didn’t hear what they were saying, but at some point, he pulled her in and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around him, and they just stood there, hugging, so I walked away. So, I guess they are dating after all. It shouldn’t bother me. I decided my crush wasn’t one. Except it clearly was one because the thing in my stomach was clearly jealousy.

Then just before lunch, Greg Harrison asked me out. It was completely out of the blue because I think that the last time I talked to him was in primary. I was so surprised that I blurted out something about being busy that night. He then leaned in and whispered in my ear “Think about it. You won’t regret it.” Before winking at me and grabbing my ass. I was so chocked I didn’t do anything, but it created an unpleasant bowl in my stomach that still isn’t gone.

And lastly, at play practice, Martin picked up on my weird mood and asked me if it was because I was having my periods. I really wanted to punch him for that, but instead I smiled and said that women could experience emotions outside of their menstrual cycle. It wasn’t my best line ever, but at least I reacted that time. Baby steps, I guess.

I don’t get moody around my periods, but maybe Martin wasn’t that wrong anyway because as I am getting to my room, I feel this familiar painful belt-of-fire like feeling starting. I hate that I get to be uncomfortable even in my own body.

Yep. Today sucks.

 

I think I must have fallen asleep, because I am woken up by the sound of my mum walking into my room.

I am still in fetal position and my body still hurts. I know she’s probably going to tell me it’s time for dinner, but I just want to try to find a comfortable position and sleep a little longer.

I open my eyes and it’s not my mom. It’s Becca.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to wake you. I was bringing some books for Nora from some girls from her class and I wanted to bring back the scarf you left in my car the other day.”

I nod, but I don’t move. I just want to go back to sleep, really. She looks at me, and I can see on her face that she gets it.

“I… hum… My mom does that thing that helps…” She hesitates for a second, but then she joins me on the bed, lies behind me and start rubbing the bottom of my back doing very specific movements with her fingers. I feel all my muscles relax, one by one.

“Helping?” she asks.

I nod again.

“Just go back to sleep,” she tells me. And I do.

When I wake up, the pain is gone, and so is Becca.

 

Nora is feeling better too, and we are both getting ready for school. I am barely in the car when she asks abruptly: “What’s happening between you and Becca?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Si, I… I know you. And I know her. You’re both acting differently when you’re together.”

“No, we’re not. We’re just being friendly.”

“You’re not like that with Nick. Or Leah. Or Abby.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like… like you’d like to impress her, but at the same time, you’re fine being yourself.”

“This sounds ridiculous.”

“Does it? Or do you have a crush on her?”

My heart skips a beat. I can switch on the car, dismiss her question and get us to school. Or I can take an extra minute to answer her question.

“Nora, I…”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. But it’s fine if you do.”

This choice, nice and easy, is what makes me say: “I’m not sure if I have a crush on her. But I know I am into girls. Girls in general, and one in particular.”

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“No.”

“Alice?”

“No. No one knows. Just you and Abby.”

Nora nods. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Not right now anyway.”

“Sure. But I’m here. Anytime. And if I have to listen to Alice talk about Theo, I am fine listening talk about whichever girl. Even if it’s weird because she’s on my soccer team.”

I lean in to hug Nora. She is a bit surprised, but she hugs me back. It lasts five seconds, maybe even less. Then I start the car and we get going.

“Talking about Becca…” Nora starts.

“We were not talking about Becca.”

“Yeah, well… We have extra practice tonight. Don’t wait for me, she already said she would give me a ride back.”

 

Coming out to Nora was much easier than I thought. My life doesn’t feel different, the way she talked to me wasn’t different, like I can be the old me and the real me at the same time. This idea gets me through the day. Because if I can do it with Nora, I can do it with Alice. And then my parents. And then the world.

And then maybe I can be with Blue.

I don’t care if Nora thinks she can see my crush on Becca. I know I don’t want her more than I want Blue.

I need to tell her that. I need to get home as soon as school starts and email Blue.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DRAFT

SUBJECT: You. Me. The world.

 

Blue,

The other day, you said that we shouldn’t meet unless we were both one hundred percent sure of what we want. I don’t know what you want. But I know what I want.

And that’s you. All of you. Not just the part I can get through a screen.

I came out to my sister this morning. It felt like my world extended a little bit. Like it is slightly bigger now. It also felt empowering.

I want to tell my parents. Soon.

But I don’t think I can face the world without you. What do you think? Should we get out into the world together?

Jacqueline.

 

But I hesitate to send it. Because I still don’t know if it is what she wants. Maybe she is just my friend and I imagine the flirting.

I jump when I hear a knock on my door. I switch off the screen quickly and go to the door. It’s Becca.

“Hi,” she says. “I just dropped Nora from practice, and she let me in. I was supposed to hang out with her before meeting Garrett in town, but she went to walk the dog. Can I stay with you until she comes back?”

Right. It’s probably going to be the longest walk she ever had with Bieber. This is an Alice move. Has she been talking to Alice? No, she said she wouldn’t. She just imitated her behavior.

“Sure. Come in.”

 

As she sits on my bed, I realize that it’s not the first she’s been in my room.

“Thanks for… yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you feeling better?”

“I am, yes.”

I sit on my bed, not so far from her, and we get quiet. It’s not uncomfortable, though. I sort of hate that. How easy it is to be with Becca. Especially after drafting that email for Blue. I hate that she confuses me like this.

We are both leaning against the wall and we stare at each other. There is something in her eyes that I have never seen before. She slides her hand towards mine until two of her fingers rest on two of mine.

The center to my world shifts to this tiny silly little thing. I try really hard not to get my hopes up. Girls hold hands all the time without it meaning anything.

I hate myself for this feeling. It shouldn’t matter what she means by this. Because she is not Blue.

She snaps out of it before me, and she looks slightly mortified. She stands up and goes to sit by my desk. By doing so, she moves my mouse, and the screen lights up on my Gmail account. Stand quickly to grab the mouse and close it, but Becca has seen it, and she is reading my draft. Just as I am about to reach the mouse, she grabs my wrists and holds them against her shoulder. She is barely paying attention to me, her eyes jumping from word to word. And getting watery.

My hands start to shake a bit, because only one person in the world would be moved reading this.

“It’s you…” she whispers.

Time just stops. She can’t seem to get her eyes of the screen, and I can’t stop staring at her. She has never been this beautiful. Her eyelashes, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. God, her lips. For weeks, it has been a struggle. Blue. Becca. Becca. Blue.

But they’re both here, right there, one person.

She finally moves her golden eyes from the screen and looks at me. She let’s go of my wrists and I move one of my hands up to cup her face. Her skin is soft and warm.

“Do you mean it?” she asks me.

“What?”

“The part about wanting me.”

“Of course I do. Did you really not know that?”

She stands up, and we are facing each other, so close that our noses are touching. I think she’s about to kiss me. But there is this one thing I need to clear.

“So you and Garrett…” I can’t even ask the question, because she interrupts me with her wonderful laugh.

“No. There is nothing between me and Garrett. He actually spent a lot of time lately listening to me pouring my heart out about that girl online that might or might not want me, and that I was the worst person in the world because I was also falling for this very real girl…”

She can’t finish her rambling because I press my lips against hers. She kisses me back, and it’s like months of frustration created a dam that’s now breaking. I pull her closer and we lose balance. We don’t fight it and instead fall in my bed. We are bot lying on our side.

She pulls me even closer and slides her leg on top of mine. I have dreamt about this moment a lot. Kissing Blue – and maybe sometimes Becca – and now that it’s happening, it’s better than I imagined it would be.

And she is so soft. Has anyone ever been so soft? Both her hands still frame my face as her lips brush against mine again, and again, and again, and again. My right hand is on her wrist. My left hand is on her knee.

I raise that hand a bit higher. Her thigh is toned from all the practice, but still tender and voluptuous. I reach the hem of her skirt and stop there for a second. Her fingers tighten a little around my face, but I don’t think it comes from unease, because the kiss gets deeper.

I move up a bit more. Not much. Just to be _under_ her clothes.

 

When she breaks the kiss, there is a little bit of lust in the back of her eyes, but it’s mostly a storm of all the feelings that are raging through my own brain. Becca. Blue. Me. This moment. Her lips. Her hands. Her eyes.

It’s all so much that I want to laugh. It’s all so much that I want to scream. It’s all so much that I want to cry.

She smiles at me and my heart nearly bursts out of my body.

“What’s happening behind those big moon eyes of yours?” she whispers.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Her smile disappears for a second, probably from the surprise, but then it’s back and brighter than ever.

“You know… I was so afraid of this. Meeting you. I thought… I thought that maybe it was a phase for you. That there was a reason as to why you couldn’t come out to your parents. Or that you would be disappointed that it’s me.”

I can see in her eyes how serious that statement is. All the confidence that she lacks, even though she shouldn’t because she is a wonderful, wonderful person. I thread my finger through hers and I put my lips on hers for a second. “I love you,” I repeat.

“I love you too,” she answers, her voice barely a whisper. “You have no idea how much.”

And her lips are back on mine. Her hand lets go of my fingers and comes to rest on my breast. I feel wanted, in more ways than one, and it makes me feel funny. Like never before. I let my hand find its way back under her skirt and I reach higher than before. Not quite on her butt, but not that far.

I’m not quite sure how far I am willing to go. I don’t know where my limit is. Maybe it is a little more confusing without the big red line of penetrative sex and the rest being steps leading to that.

Right now, I feel like I would follow Becca’s lead. Whatever that is. I would follow her to the moon. As long as she keeps kissing me like that.

 

We break apart when her phone vibrates.

“Oh shit… Garrett.”

I really don’t want her to go, just like that. Apparently, neither does she, because she just messages him something and comes back to sit on my bed.

We don’t kiss anymore. Instead, we talk. It’s great. It is a perfect balance of conversations I would have with Blue, and ones I would have with Becca.

 

I don’t know when Nora came back – she never came to check on Becca – but I know she did because I can hear Bieber downstairs.

So when someone knocks on my door, I’m expecting it to be her. I really need to stop guessing who’s behind the door, because I suck at that game.

It’ my mom.

“Si, do you…” my mom stops mid-sentence when she sees Becca. “Oh, sorry, Honey, I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Hello Mrs Spier.”

“Please, call me Emily. You are Becca, aren’t you? From Nora’s soccer team.”

“Indeed, I am.”

“I didn’t realise that you were also a friend of Simone’s.”

“We have English literature and algebra together,” Becca explains. “We also share a group of friends at lunch.”

Now. This is now. “Mom, actually…”

My mother’s smile fades slightly, as if she could hear the nervousness in my voice. It’s too late to go back now. Not because of my mom, but because of the glimmer of hope that I sparked in her eyes.

“Becca is my girlfriend.” As if it needed clarification, I take Becca’s hand and she lets me.

“I see. And is your girlfriend staying for dinner?”

My mother has this sweet smile that she usually saves for whenever she is looking at pictures of my sisters and me when we were little. It is a loving smile that delicately wipes away all the fears I had accumulated.

I’m not entirely sure what overwhelms me the most right now. My mother’s smile, or Becca’s hand in mine.

Today was absolutely perfect.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980770)


	16. What if a shopping list was involved?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram and Simon are sent to the store with a shopping list. As they go from item to item, Bram talks and Simon starts to put one and one together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's go back to basics with Bram and Simon in high school. I might have wandered a bit far lately :)
> 
> Someone mentioned that I probably could write something with a shopping list as a starting point. Well, challenge accepted.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean the opposite of yes.”

Garrett looks at me like I just told him Santa isn’t real. So he turns to Nick. “Can you put some sense into him?”

“You know you can’t _make_ him show up, right?”

“Thanks, Nick,” I reply. “That’s called free will, Garrett, look it up.”

“Bram, I love you. I’m literally on the line between ‘I love you man’, and ‘will you marry me’. But you already ditched my Halloween party.”

“Okay, so, first… How wide is that line that it would go from bromance to a wedding?”

“It’s my Bram-line.”

“Ah. Well, please don’t cross it. And for your Halloween party, you know I had to give out candies because my mom wasn’t there.”

“And it would have been such a shame if the starving children of America had one less house providing healthy snacks. Wait…”

“Very funny. Look, Garrett, I’m sorry I missed your party and that I hurt your baby feelings. I’m still not going to let you throw me a birthday party.”

“You can’t keep him from throwing it,” Nick says. “You know he’s going to do it regardless.”

“But I can not show.”

“True. That would be the most hilarious thing ever. A Bram-less Bram birthday party.”

Garrett says something back, probably along the line of that prospect being a tragedy, but I’m not listening. Something else caught my attention. Simon Spier’s voice. He’s walking towards the lunch table with Abby Suso and Leah Burke.

This is my personal limbo every day. Stuck between heaven and hell.

I’ve had this crush on Simon since the first time Garrett brought me to this lunch table. It was small at first. At first, it was just his eyes. Their color, sure, that mix of moon and silver, but also the way they lingered on people. Like he wasn’t afraid to make eye-contact and hold it. But then it became quickly out of control. He’s popping up in my mind at very random times and for various reasons. His bed hair that’s cute, but also makes me picture him _in bed_. The way he laughs. At everything, but never in a mean way. The way he sits. This one is weird. Who has ever been obsessed by the way someone sits? It’s not even like it’s out of the ordinary, it’s just… a very Simon posture.

I noticed that my crush was bigger than I thought when I realized that I had never spoke to him. I barely even talk to Garrett when Simon is here. He gets me completely tongue-tied.

That didn’t use to be an issue. I was fine being the fool who got a crush about a straight boy. I think every gay person makes that mistake at least once. But then I met Jacques. Okay, maybe ‘met’ isn’t the right word, but he appeared in my life like a mysterious gay miracle. And I was so sure he would make me forget about Simon Spier.

He didn’t. What I feel for Jacques is much stronger than what I feel for Simon, and Simon doesn’t really occupy my thoughts that much outside of school anymore. But he still makes Jacques fade away every day between 12 and 1 p.m. And that’s a problem.

Perhaps it will get better when Jacques and I meet. When I can put a face to the feeling. When I have a corporal image for daydreams. And the like.

“Leah!” Garrett says as they are sitting down. “You’re the birthday queen, aren’t you?”

She looks pleased by the praise. “That very much sound like me.”

“Does Bram need a birthday party?”

Leah looks at me. “I take it that you don’t want one,” she guesses.

“Not really, no.”

“Then I would say that he doesn’t need one,” she replies and Garrett looks like he’s been stabbed. “And he’s going to get a fantastic birthday cake from me, so he’s going to get everything he really needs.”

I laugh. “That’s very true.”

“Come on, Bram. You never celebrate anything. it could be just the lunch table, the soccer team, and a couple of other people. Leah can bring you a cake then. It will be fun.”

The lunch table. Do I want to spend an evening with them? If I plan to spend an entire evening with Simon Spier, is it like cheating on Jacques? It shouldn’t be, because it’s nothing, but Jacques and I don’t have anything either. Online, we have this amazing bond that helps me navigate being a gay closeted kid and which makes me stronger every day. But here, in the real, tangible world, Jacques and I aren’t even a thing.

But Garrett is right. I haven’t celebrated my birthday since my parents got divorced. And now that I’ve been here for a couple of years, I actually have some friends I could party with.

So I cave.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. I always cave when it comes to Garrett.

 

“You’ll see, it’s going to be SO GREAT!” Garrett says as we’re driving home after school. We always carpool on practice days.

“Why are you so excited about this? You weren’t even that thrilled about your own party.”

“It’s not about the party.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It’s about you. Finally getting out of that little shell of yours.”

“You make me sound like a loner.”

“Bram… come on… You’re not a loner. You’re part of the team, you have a group of friends at school and, most importantly, you have me. But you’re not exactly a social butterfly either.”

“And that’s bad?”

“No. I love you just the way you are,” Garrett says with a cheesy voice and a wink. “But it’s going to be nice to see you relax for an evening. And worst-case scenario, you hate it, we never do it again. We can even have it at my house so you can leave early if that’s not your thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re the best friend, by you’re my best friend,” I say in the same cheesy voice he used a few seconds ago. That makes him laugh.

“You know what? You can tell me that again after the party, when we find you a girl.”

“I’m sorry what?” My stomach is suddenly so tight that I think I could throw up, right here in Garrett’s car.

“I don’t know how to tell you that, and maybe that will make you think that I’ve crossed that Bram-line, but you’re the hot one of the group. How come that there isn’t a nice girl on your arm?”

“I… I haven’t found a girl I like.” That’s a swerve. I know I just cowardly dodged the question. I’m hoping that will be enough for him to let go. I don’t want to lie to Garrett. We don’t lie to each other. Once, he asked me how I felt about my parents getting divorced. So I told him. He’s the only person who truly knows that. I think I would tell Jacques if he asked. I might also bring it up myself if I’m upset on evening and in front of a screen.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find you a lady at the party. Even if she doesn’t happen to be the one, it might be nice to fool around a little bit, right? And we might actually find you a girlfriend.”

I don’t know how to tell Garrett that I would in fact rather marry him than date a girl. I definitely can’t say it like that.

Garrett pulls over in front of my house. Now or never. If I postpone this, I might never do it. Part of me really needs to know how Garrett would react. I need to know where our friendship really stands. I like to think I know him, but maybe he’s not the person I think he is.

“I don’t want to find a girl.”

“Yeah, I know. That might be too much fun, and then when would you do your homework?”

“No… Garrett…” His smile fades. He can tell I’m being serious, and I think that concerns him. Because it shouldn’t be a serious subject.

“I don’t want to find _a girl_ ,” I repeat.

I can see on Garrett’s face that he understands what I’m saying. He doesn’t look shocked. He doesn’t look disgusted. He actually looks like he’s relaxing. Like he was expecting me to say something much, _much_ worse.

“We’ll just find you a boy, then.” It’s a joke, nice and easy, but his tone is serious. I can’t help but smile in relief. He’s fine with it, and our dynamic in unchanged. “Unless you know, that means you want me to cross that Bram-line. Because I’ll defo do that for you.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Not good enough for you? That breaks my heart man.”

“It’s fine. We’ll find you a girl to get over it.”

He smiles and winks at me. But his face gets serious again.

“So… it there a boy I should know about?”

Again: I don’t lie to Garrett. “There is a boy.”

“It’s Spier, isn’t it?”

“What?” I was not thinking about Simon, I swear.

“You’re different when he’s there. Like today, we were talking with Nick at lunch, he showed up, and you went very quiet. Quieter than usual, I mean. You do that every lunchtime. I used to think that it was because it was a bigger crowd, but it’s only when he’s here. I just assumed you didn’t like him. I guess I was dead wrong, uh?”

“I… hum… it’s more complicated than that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I do. I really do. But I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how much of a secret Jacques is supposed to be. So instead, I say: “Maybe not today, okay.”

“Sure man. Whenever you need.”

We fist bump and I get out of the car. It’s still a bit unreal. I just came out to someone. My world didn’t collapse. My life didn’t change. I am not less loved, or perceived differently.

Coming out to my family doesn’t feel like this unclimbable wall, now. For the first time, it feels okay to be me. This is a bit overwhelming. I know there is one person that will understand. I need to email Jacques.

 

I tell Jacques about coming out to a friend. About feeling like my walls are crumbling down. It can seem like a tiny step, but I know he’ll understand how massive it is.

I don’t tell him about the birthday party. Even though my date of birth is already in my email address, I feel like it would be too big of clue to say ‘Hey you know that party that Garrett Laughlin is going to invite half the school to even if he said it would be a small thing? Yeah, well it’s for me.’

There is also this other idea in my head that I hate, but that I can’t push away. If I talk about the party and Jacques is surprised, then it means he isn’t Simon. I know that realistically, Jacques isn’t Simon, but it’s still an idea, nagging at the back of my head. And I’m not ready to let it go. I’m not ready to rule out Simon. However unfair that is to the real Jacques.

Which is probably the most hypocritical thing I’ve ever thought in my life, because it would literally break me if Jacques was picturing another boy whilst emailing me. Which he probably does.

It’s a good thing that I already pressed ‘send’, because now I’m spiraling and when that happens, I usually stop emailing for a couple of days. Oddly enough, it’s the thought of Jacques that calms me down enough to get over my fear of emailing Jacques. I think my brain hates me.

 

The day of the party comes awfully quick. Garrett even managed to get me excited about it. People are going to have fun, but he promised that him and me could sit in a corner and just talk if that’s what I wanted to do. In exchange, I promised that I would try to socialize more than usual.

I get to Garrett’s place early to help set things up. He apparently wasn’t expecting that, because he looks surprised when he opens the door. “Greenfeld, what are you doing here?”

“I’m pretty sure there is a birthday party for me in there tonight.”

“Exactly. You should arrive on time and have fun. Not early and slave away.”

“Okay, you clearly don’t know what slavery is. Plus, I couldn’t let you do this alone. I’ll help you set up, and I’ll help you clean up.”

“Oh, I’m not alone. The rest of the lunch table is here already. Even Anna and Morgan. Apparently you do have friends.”

That’s when Simon Spier shows up behind Garrett.

“Okay, I’m going, now. Oh, hi, Bram. You’re early! You can’t go in the kitchen though, because Leah made you, and I repeat, made, not bought, a special cake. It’s a surprise. Hey, why don’t you come with me on that grocery run Garrett just sent me to?”

I can’t really say no. Or could I? I don’t know. Garrett gives me a look that says that he can get me out of there if I need to. But that might be a golden opportunity. If it’s just Simon and me, I will have to talk to him, and maybe then I’ll realize that he is boring, or entitled, or a KKK member. Okay, the latter is highly unlikely. But it would definitely kill my crush.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s take my car, I’m pretty sure I’m blocking yours.”

 

And we’re off to the store.

As soon as I start the car, I think that I must have an awful karma, because my playlist, on shuffle, starts playing Elliott Smith’s Waltz #2. Subtly reminding me that I shouldn’t be alone with Simon Spier when I have a boyfriend. An online boyfriend. An online friend. A pen pal. What are even Jacques and I?

Simon looks at me funny.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just not a very popular song.”

“You know it?”

“Yes, I have a few of his songs on my playlist.”

Okay, so, maybe this will not help me get over Simon Spier after all. Let’s change the subject to something more neutral. “How long is Garrett’s list?”

“Not very long. We just need to replace everything that Nick destroyed.”

“What?”

“Nick put most of the supplies on the ping-pong table which collapsed under the weight.”

“Was it bad?”

“Yes and no. It was alright, but I probably just feel like that because I didn’t have to clean up. There was liquids and crushed chips everywhere. I think Garrett was relieved that is happened outside.”

“I can imagine.”

We get silent and I switch off the music. Simon shoots me another weird look, but I don’t want to listen to Jacques’ song with Simon. It feels wrong.

 

“Okay,” Simon says as we enter the store, getting the shopping list out of his pocket. “ We need to replace: vodka, soda, chips, and he asked us to pack up on frozen pizza, ice, cups and get some candles for Leah’s cake.”

“Vodka? None of us can pass for twenty-one.”

“Do you want to risk it?”

“Not really, no…”

“Then it will be a beer party. There were a lot of those left.”

“Should we divide and conquer?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t. Actually, we should take our time. Garrett and Abby _really_ want this party to go well and they are _very_ bossy. I didn’t volunteer to do this because of my love of shopping.”

Bram laughs. “I’m sorry. I’m not even sure I want this.”

“Don’t be silly. Everyone should get the chance to celebrate on their birthday. We’re all going to make sure it’s a good day for you.”

“Well today is only January seventeenth. My birthday is actually tomorrow.”

“Then we just have to entertain you until midnight. Okay, which sodas do you like?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Come on, Bram. Make an effort. It’s your day. Minus one, but still.”

“Okay. You know what? Let’s go crazy. Let’s take one of each. Garrett’s paying, right.”

Simon laughs. “We all chipped in. Nick called it a donation to Bram’s first party. Abby called it a birthday present. Garrett called it a collection as we were funding a miracle.”

I have this weird thought for a fraction of a second. For a brief moment, I’m glad I had to move. I made good friends here.

“Okay, let’s get the ice.”

“Or let’s keep it till the end?” I suggest.

“Right. Smart plan. Because ice melts.”

I can’t help but laugh. Damn. That’s not going well. He is ridiculously charming. In an absent-minded kind of way.

 

We go stock up on chips. Again, Simon asks me to choose.

“I don’t know. I don’t really eat chips.”

“Fine. Then since it’s for other people, we could go safe and plain…”

“Or?”

“Or we get all the weird flavors. Like here, look ‘Cinnamon and sugar’. That should _not_ be a thing.”

“Crab chips?” I ask taking another pack from the shelf. Simon nods and I put it in the cart next to his pick.

“Maple Bacon,” he finds.

“Cucumber,” I top.

“No way!”

I show him the pack.

“Healthy and unhealthy shouldn’t be mixed together,” he comments.

“I agree. Except maybe Oreo and granola.” Simon looks at me funny again. I shrug. “I know. But a friend of mine told me it wasn’t gross and added it to my diet list. I think I should try before dismissing it, no?”

“I guess,” he says, but he’s still looking at me funny.

“Look,” I say to break the weird vibe. “Pizza flavor.”

“Definitely a must,” he agrees.

 

When we get to the pizzas, Simon just looks at me with a soft smile, telling me that, once again, it’s my decision.

“I’d rather have you choose,” I say. “I’m annoying to cater for.”

“Why?”

“I don’t eat pork. So I can’t have anything with bacon or ham, for instance.” Simon has a weird look in his eyes. “I’m Jewish,” I explain. “Well… half-Jewish, really. Not even that, because my dad is Jewish, and…”

“Judaism is matrilineal,” he finishes in a whisper.

“Yes.” I am pleasantly surprised. Usually, people don’t know the terminology, or don’t know the fact all together. I have to bite the inside of my mouth. This is going so well. This is a disaster. It’s getting harder to summon Jacques.

 

Candles should be easy.

“Okay, should we go for seventeen plain ones, or for a one and a seven?” I ask.

But Simon has another idea. He grabs a box of colored candles. “Look, those ones have colored flames,” he says. Wouldn’t it be cool to have a rainbow in the dark? Would that suit you?” Again, there is this weird ton in Simon’s voice. Maybe it’s not weird. Maybe I just don’t know him at all. After all, it’s the first time we’ve ever really spoken together.

I think about his rainbow flames, and I think about coming out to Garrett. He will get how this fits me more than any other option we could have gone for. “Yes, I reply. That suits me.”

Simon smiles as he hands me two packs of what’s labelled ‘magic candles’.

 

In the plastic cups isle, Simon grabs blue and red ones. He looks at me and asks: “Which color is you?”

I have a weird feeling. Like he’s testing me, and a lot depends on my answer. I one hundred percent prefer red. But that’s not what he asked. So the words come out of my mouth on their own. “I guess I’m blue.”

Simon looks upset. I don’t understand why. We can take the red cups if he wants to. I tell him that, and he replies that it’s fine. That blue is perfect.

I sort of hear it capitalized.

 

When go for the ice, Simon is quiet. I try to keep the conversation alive, but I’m not sure he’s really with me. It’s like we switched personalities. So I let it go. I understand someone’s need for quiet.

 

He only speaks to me after we put everything in the trunk and are back in the car. I’m about to start the car when he says: “Bram… can you stop for a minute?”

I stop, confused, and look at him. There is a look on Simon’s face that I’ve never seen before. He looks both confused and torn.

“Simon, are you okay?”

“I, uh… Why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“See… it’s even the words you use…”

“Simon, I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“Bram… I’ve seen you have conversation with Nick and Garrett on the soccer field, and today you were joking with Abby. But you never talk to me. Not unless I directly ask you a question. Why?”

“I don’t know…”

“Is it because I’m cute?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“If it’s not you, then I’m just making a fool of myself, and I probably sound like the biggest show off in the world, and… I know that some of it is far-fetched, but… it’s Elliott Smith, and tomorrow is January 18th, and that fits with 118, and the Oreo granola, and being half-Jewish, and the rainbow, and the blue cups and the vocabulary you use, and you not talking to some boys, and…”

“One,” I say, and I have to focus so hard to not let my voice shake.

“What?”

“There is just one boy that gets me tongue-tied.”

Simon and I stare at each other. We perfectly understand what’s happening. I can’t believe this is happening. There is so much to process. First, Jacques is here. He knows who I am, and he looks as overwhelmed as I am. In a good way, I think. Second, I can’t believe how many hints I dropped today. It’s basically like I ticked every email I ever sent Jacques. Third… I almost don’t want to form that thought. As if I can still jink it somehow. But it’s Simon. For months I’ve been fighting that crush with everything I have so I wouldn’t be disappointed when I finally met Jacques.

I take back what I thought earlier. My karma is actually amazing.

“I can’t believe it’s you…” he says finally.

I bite my lower lip. I don’t know what he means by that.

“You’ve been _right there_ all this time,” he continues. “How did we never put the dots together?”

“We’ve never been shopping,” I say.

Simon smiles. “You know what… Of all things, I would never have predicted that it would be the way I would find out.”

I smile too. He has a point. “I’m so happy it’s you,” I say. Because it’s true. I’ve never felt as fortunate as I do now.

Simon’s eyes go all soft, and they’ve never been so radiant. “Trust me,” he says, “you’re not as happy as I am right now.” He’s probably wrong, but it’s so nice to hear that I don’t contradict him. “I really want to touch you,” he adds.

I slide my arm over the gearbox to rest it on his, on his lap. He moves it slightly so our fingers link. This tiny little moment is probably the most intense of my life.

We just stay there, silent, holding hands, staring, smiling like idiots.

“The ice is melting,” he says after a while.

“Is it bad that I don’t care?”

“There is a party for you that probably started.”

“I still don’t care.”

“Garrett will never forgive you if you ditch this party.”

I doubt that very much. But I get his point. So I nod and start the car.

“Is he the friend you came out to?” Simon asks.

“He is. He actually told me yesterday that I should try something with you at the party. Simon you. He doesn’t know about Jacques.”

“Why would he tell you that?”

My hands tighten on the wheel. “He might have noticed my crush on you.” I can’t take my eyes off the road to make sure, but I could swear that Simon is smiling.

 

The party is great. I’m so glad that Garrett pushed me to do this. But maybe it has nothing to do with the party. Maybe it’s because of the looks Simon and I exchange throughout the evening.

As I promised Garrett, I try to turn into a ‘social butterfly’ for the evening. I talk to people I have only ever greeted before, or members of the soccer team I don’t know that well, but my eyes keep looking for and finding Simon.

I haven’t had anytime with him since we came back from the store, but it’s fine. We’ll have time later. For now, it’s enough to enjoy the feeling and simply be happy.

And I keep smiling. Whenever I catch his eyes. Whenever someone comments on the weird chips flavors. Whenever I see a blue cup… Pretty much all the time, really.

 

At some point of the evening, as I am coming back from the kitchen, someone pulls me into a room. The first thing I see is Garrett’s tiny laundry room. As I turn around, the second thing I see is Simon, closer to me than he’s ever been.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” I whisper back.

“It’s midnight,” he says. “Happy birthday, Bram.”

And his lips are on mine. My eyes flutter shut and I pull myself closer to him. He tastes like a combination of all the sodas we bought. He doesn’t taste like alcohol. I didn’t drink either. I don’t want to risk forgetting anything about tonight.

“That’s exactly what I wanted,” I whisper between kisses. “That’s what I want every year from now on.”

“Deal.”

And he kisses me deeper.

On the other side of the door, I can vaguely hear people saying that the cake is ready. The mystery surprise cake that sent me on the best shopping trip of my life. And the rainbow candles, like a secret that I only share with Simon and Garrett, but that I am not afraid to share with the world anymore. Soon.

I need to discuss it with Simon first. And I don’t really want to talk now.

“We should go,” Simon says. “Before they come looking for you.

“In a minute,” I promise.

And I put my lips back on his. One more minute. The world can wait sixty seconds.

 

 

 


	17. What if Bram had a boyfriend back in Savannah?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon has a secret online friend that he is falling in love with. But that's a very stupid move, because Blue has a very real boyfriend.

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 21 at 1.46 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Why not?

 

Jacques,

I am not entirely sure why not. The bike incident is definitely proof that my mother would be fine with me being gay, and since I have a boyfriend, you would think that the step would be easier to take. But since we’re doing long distance, it means that he isn’t here to hold my hand whilst I come out to her. Maybe that’s what I need. Someone to be by my side. It doesn’t have to be him, I guess, but it would be nice. To share that with him.

I’m getting closer, though. I think talking to you helps. It’s easier to talk to you about it. He is out, and he doesn’t understand why I’m not. I think it frustrates him. He doesn’t push for me to come out, though, and I really appreciate that.

But what about you? Any closer to coming out to your family? I agree with you, it might be easier to start with your sisters. I don’t know, I don’t have siblings. But I have this idea that siblings would be on your side. Not for silly things, I imagine there has been some amount of bickering, but for the important things. Like coming out and Oreos.

Blue.

 

This email, this specific one, is the reflection of all the other ones. Being open and honest about things we can’t tell anyone else, because we are both in the closet, and coming out is still terrifying, Details that show how well he knows me, like the Oreo comment. And then this massive hedge between us, bigger that the anonymity thing: Blue’s boyfriend.

I’ve known about him since the beginning, and I was fine with it. Blue was just this other gay kid I could talk to, someone that would understand and not judge. But lately, I had to face that I’m sort of falling in love with Blue, this taken boy I’ve never even met, and the boyfriend thing starts to sting a little bit. Every time he is mentioned is like a mosquito bite.

Not that it would be enough to keep me away from Blue. He is my best friend in many ways, and I am fine being his friend. It might be harder if he were a real person, but as it is, I can’t have him anyway.

 

At school, I try to convince myself that I am not developing feelings for Blue by contemplating the crushes I might have on other boys.

Two of them come to my mind.

There is Cal Price. He’s really cute. With his bangs, and his dreamy blue eyes. When he smiles at me, my stomach does this weird thing. It’s not butterflies exactly, but we’re almost there. It sometimes feels like something is happening between us, but then it never leads anywhere. I’m not even sure we’re friends. We don’t really talk outside of the auditorium. And he might not even be gay. It’s just a vibe I get from him sometimes. Not always. Maybe if I come out, he’ll come out to me too. It’s probably just daydreaming, that doesn’t happen in real life, but it’s better than daydreaming about an online friend who has a long-distance boyfriend.

The second one is Bram Greenfeld. He has lunch with us every day and he’s in Nick’s football team. It means that once a day, I get to see how cute he is, and once a week, I can stare at how hot he is.

He is really quiet, so I don’t know much about him, but he has those super expressive brown eyes framed by dramatic eyelashes. He has freckles sparkled all over his nose that almost disappear whenever he blushes. Cute.

Soccer Bram is an entirely different thing. First of all, there are the calves. He has really nice soccer calves. He probably has very nice soccer everything, but that’s not exposed. And the way he moves is mesmerizing. I’ve even seen Abby stare at him a couple of times when, really, she should be staring at Nick. Hot. Plus, after the game, when he’s all red, sweaty and panting from the effort, it always takes my mind to places I’d never admit to anyone. Not even Blue.

And we’re back to the problem. No matter who I am crushing on, it always takes me back to Blue.

I can’t decide what’s worse. Crushing on a straight guy, which by definition I can’t have, or being in love with a gay guy, that I could have, if only he wasn’t taken. If only I could make him fall in love with me. The first one feels like I’ve been unlucky. The second one feels like I’m not enough.

Because even though I’m not entirely sure about Cal, I know for a fact that Bram is straight. He moved here from Savannah at the end of last year, and I must admit that I didn’t ask him a lot of questions when he did. Nor when he joined our lunch group. But then Abby moved here too and she gave everyone the third degree. Including – or more specifically especially – about love lives. That’s the only time Bram mentioned his girlfriend. We just know that she exists and that her name is Alex.

I think that Garrett met her once or twice, but I am not that interested. Truthfully, I now I am, or I wouldn’t know that random piece of information, but I try really hard not to be interested in Bram Greensfeld girlfriend. Actually, if I could forget her existence, that would be fantastic.

 

Weeks go by in this weird spiral. Email Blue whilst trying to kill those growing feelings, drool over Bram Greenfeld trying not to be too obvious, and hope that Cal Price might be gay.

 

The feeling in my stomach when I see a notification from Blue is getting out of control. It’s crazy. He’s taken and he’s not real. I know he’s a real person, somewhere, but he isn’t a real person in my world. So when I see an email from him before going to bed, there is no way I’m going to wait until morning to open it.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 13 at 9.23 PM

SUBJECT: The most cliché line ever.

 

Jacques,

Trust me, I don’t want to write this email. But I must.

You know I went back to Savannah during the winter break. Of course, I saw him. It was nice. But it wasn’t the big reunion it was supposed to be either. The long-distance thing is wearing us off. The fact that I am still not out is weighing on him. And he is getting jealous. Of this. Us. He doesn’t understand that I have an online friend. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t different from any other friendship, but then he asked about the anonymity thing. And I couldn’t answer that. He had a point. By now, I know you won’t out me ever. So why am I still not telling you who I am?

I couldn’t say it at loud, but we both knew why. Maybe even you know it too. It’s because you confuse me. As long as this feels unreal, it’s not a problem that I feel more connected to you than him. Because it’s not cheating if it’s not real, right?

Please, don’t freak out. I’m not saying that I am into you. I’m not saying that I am not, either. I am saying that you confuse me. And you shouldn’t. Because I’m in a relationship.

I guess all of that to say that I need a break. From us. I know it’s unfair. I know there is this very real possibility that it’s all in my head, and that nothing is happening between us. Or that we won’t click when we meet. And I need to focus on that, because the other possibility is terrifying.

Which leads me to the most cliché line ever, but no one ever meant it more than I do now: it’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s me. I’m the one who’s messed up.

Please forgive me.

Blue.

 

I never felt so empty before. It’s good, in a way. It numbs the pain.

I probably stare at my screen for thirty minutes, reading and re-reading the words.

I don’t know how to feel. Can you get dumped if you’re not in a relationship?

I sort of want to email back. Beg him to not do that. Tell him that he confuses me too and that we should work it out together. Or lie and say that nothing is happening and that we can be friends. But he needs me not to do that. So I won’t.

Instead I’ll wait, even if his email doesn’t say if he ever plans to get back to me.

I will let him sort whatever he needs. I am going to do the best I can to not hope every day that he breaks up with his boyfriend.

And I am not going to cry.

No matter what, I am not going to cry.

I am not…

Too late.

 

I am not the most pleasant company over the next few days. I know I’m not. But my friends pretend they don’t notice my unusual grumpiness. Even Abby seems to understand that I need space.

Even Cal and Bram lost their appeal a little bit. What’s the point anyway?

Opening yourself to someone just sucks. They’re here, and then they’re gone.

 

It’s more than that, though. It’s also a deep frustration. Blue is there, somewhere, he’s in pain, and I can’t help him. I can’t even be there for him. I can’t even be his friend.

Have I ever been so freaking useless?

 

Even through my self-pity fog, I notice that I’m not the only one who’s been acting different at lunch. It takes me a solid week to notice, because he’s always so quiet anyway, but Bram isn’t himself. His eyes are less expressive, and he doesn’t quite look like he’s in the present with us. There is also this weird face that Garrett makes when he looks at him. Almost like he’s checking on him.

That’s when things fall into place in my mind. I might be using Simon logic, but…could it be that the boy I used to distract me from Blue was actually… Blue?

And if so, does Bram know who that it’s me?

I don’t know how to ask that question. But even if I did, I shouldn’t. I promised myself I would give him space.

 

It’s another fortnight before I get another email from Blue. Bram? I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Maybe I was just that desperate to make him real to compensate losing him.

I am afraid to open the email. The title doesn’t help. It might be goodbye. It might be the last time we communicate. It might be a fucking wedding invitation.

Okay, probably not.

If Blue pulls away again, I will fight this time. The last couple of weeks have been too painful. Whatever this is, I need it in my life.

I still wait twenty-four hours before being ready to click on it.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 6 at 6.12 PM

SUBJECT: Time for real life?

 

Jacques,

I don’t know if you will read this email. I don’t know if your silence came from you respecting my request or you being done with me. It would actually be overwhelming if you answer this email. Because it is going to be incredibly selfish again.

I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. Not because of the email thing. Not even because of the distance. Sometimes, it’s just because.

And now I am in this odd grey area. I don’t want a new relationship. Not now. So it’s really not what this is. But I need my friend back. I need you, Jacques. I would like to start emailing again. Like before. talk about big things and little details.

I would also like to take it to the real world. I really want to talk, and I really want to talk to you. It’s probably the last thing you want, letting me cry on your shoulder. But we can talk about something else. I just want to have a conversation with you instead of emails. They get dry, after a while.

What do you think? Time for real life?

Blue

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 7 at 4.02 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Time for real life?

 

Blue,

Of course I want to meet. Of course I understand that this is not about jumping into a new relationship. Of course I’ll let you cry on my shoulder if that’s what you need. Of course everything. Anything for you. Did you ever doubt that?

I’ve heard that the gate to the path to the school football pitch doesn’t lock anymore. Do you want to meet there tonight? 9 p.m.? It should be empty.

Jacques.

 

 

That’s how I end up on an empty soccer field, so close to my curfew, my heart pounding.

Someone is already there, sitting against one of the goals. My heart almost stops. It _is_ Bram freaking Greenfeld.

As I’m walking towards him, he looks up, and his mouth falls slightly open from the surprise.

“Simon?”

My stomach has this intense stage-fright like feeling. “Yep. It’s me. I know I’m probably not…”

“Don’t be stupid,” he interrupts me. “I had this feeling it could be you. I guess I was just trying to keep you virtual for as long as I could.” He looks at me intensely, and it makes me feel weird.

I sit next to him. It’s weird, but physical proximity is more manageable than eye contact right now. The silence between us isn’t comfortable yet. So I say “Alex isn’t short for Alexandra, is it?”

Bram shakes his head. The joke doesn’t even get me a smile. Which I get. It wasn’t a funny joke, and I went straight for the forbidden topic. I’m a moron.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Bram shrugs. He gets what I mean by ‘it’. “I didn’t break up with him for you. It might have been _because of you_ , but it wasn’t for you. I don’t expect anything. I don’t even want to start anything, I… It just wasn’t working, you know? It wasn’t…”

Bram’s eyes start to tear up again and I grab his hand. It’s not a romantic move. I get it. It’s too soon. It might even never happen. It doesn’t matter. Bram is my best friend in so many different ways. I just want to be there for him. And now I finally can.

Bram collapses into my arms and cries.

 

Bram and I develop a friendship after that. A real friendship. We still email, but it’s more erratic now that we can text and talk whenever we feel like it. We share things together that we can’t share with other people. There are some things I can only tell him. Because he’s the only one who can put himself in my shoes.

It’s not romantic. Not that it’s not what I want. Every moment I spend with him, I fall a little deeper. But it’s not what he wants. At least not now. Part of my brain lives on the hope that maybe, one day will be our time. That allows the other part of my brain to shut down those feelings and be his friend, and nothing more, when we are together.

 

At the end of March, I stand by him as he comes out to his mother, and he stands by me as I come out to my entire family – even though Alice is only with us via Skype.

Both coming out go well. I like that he made me strong enough to do this. I like that we shared this life-changing event together.

 

By May, I know that I’m in love with him. The real thing. Not what I thought I felt when he was just a name on a screen. Much more than the crush I had on Bram. More even than the combination of both.

But I also know that I friend zoned myself. I tell myself every day that I’m fine with it. Maybe one day I’ll believe it.

I can’t quite lie to myself that well, though, because when my phone buzzes from an email from Bram, my heart still skips a beat.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: May 18 at 10.36 PM

SUBJECT: I guess I’ve been lying to you.

 

Simon,

As it says in the title, I have been lying to you for a while, and I am tired of it.

I am tired of pretending that I don’t want to be with you all the time.

First, I closed myself to you because of Alex. I am one hundred percent a one-man person. As long as I was with him, Jacques was just a friend. Regardless of how perfect he could be. And Simon was a cute guy that I didn’t notice that much.

But then I broke up with him, and I started to realize that, maybe, I hadn’t sheltered myself from you as well as I thought. But the timing was off. I didn’t want to jump in a new relationship. I wanted to take time to mourn my relationship properly. I also needed time to myself. To figure out who I was if I weren’t _that_ Bram. Alex’s closeted boyfriend.

And then… I didn’t want for us to be together just because it made sense. Just because we emailed, and we’re friends, and we’re the only gay guys out in our school…

But it’s not just because it makes sense. It’s because whenever I’m with you, I’m happier, I’m calmer, I’m more self-conscious, but I’m also more focused… I breathe slower even though my heart beats faster.

I was so sure that Alex was my first love. But now that I’m here, with you, feeling all of that, I realise that he was just my first boyfriend. That maybe I was with him just because it made sense. But that I want you for all the other reasons. The right reasons.

What I feel when I think of you is stronger than anything I knew before. And even if it ends up being unrequited, I know this will have been my first love.

I very well know that there was a time you had feelings for me, and that you put those on hold because I wasn’t there yet. I also know that there is this frightening possibility that you moved on, and our timings were just off. I guess you can only wait for someone for so long.

But I’m here, finally. I’m ready for you, and I want you. So badly. If you’ll still have me.

If not, then I must ask this of you: please take that email and put it in a corner of your head and your heart – it is always nice to know that you are loved – but disregard it. You and I can go back to being friends. I’ll swallow my feelings and heartache like you did yours, and we’ll keep doing what we do best: being amazing at friendship.

No pressure. Your choice.

Love,

Bram.

 

This email is everything I ever wanted and more. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I can’t type a response. What could I possibly reply to _that_? It’s almost too much to process. All I can do is read it over and over again, and every time feels as intense as the first time.

I was worried when I read the title of the email, but now it makes my heart beat faster in anticipation of the rest of the email. Does Bram really want to be with me all the time? Because I’ll even stay in school during the holidays just to have lunch with him every day.

I understand that he would shut me off during and after his relationship. It actually makes me want him even more. Don’t get me wrong, I was so into him that he could easily have talked me into being with him in spite of the boyfriend thing, but then he wouldn’t be the boy I fell in love with, would he? It feels incredible to know that Bram is… what were his words? One hundred percent a one-man person and that I am the one he wants now. He is the one, and only one, I want too.

And I like that he took time to figure himself out. I don’t want Bram to be defined as my boyfriend any more that I want to be defined as his. I really, _really_ want it to be a part of what we are. But I don’t want it to be who we are.

He’s also right when he says that we shouldn’t get together just because it seems right on paper. We should get together because of that little feeling below my navel whenever he is talking to me, or that twist in my stomach if ever we touch, or the way my heart races when he leans close enough that I can smell his soap.

There is nothing unrequited in what he’s expressing. I also believe that you can only wait for someone for so long. But I still had a lot of time available for Bram. Probably more than we already used.

And then… there is also this word. The L one. The one I was trying so hard not to let pop in my head whenever I was thinking about him, talking to him, emailing him, being with him… Pretty much all my woken time, really. There was nothing I could do about dreams.

I am going to put that email in a corner of my head and my heart, but I am absolutely not going to disregard it. I’ll contemplate it every day.

We are indeed amazing at being friends, but there is no way I’ll settle for that anymore. I need to tell Bram that.

But I don’t want to just tell him that. I want to win him over. I want to seduce him all over again. I want to go big gesture.

 

That’s how I end up in front of Garrett’s bedroom door after his mother let me in. Garrett will know how to impress Bram. Garrett is sort of a Bram encyclopaedia, isn’t he? Our two brains will manage to figure something amazing out. I’m sure.

I knock on his door, and his face is nothing but surprise when he opens it.

“Spier?”

“Garrett, you know Bram, right?”

“I’ve met him once or twice,” he answers.

“You know what I mean. It’s just… I got this email, and… I need to do something that would wow him. Can you help me figure out what could wow him?”

Garrett nods. Once. It doesn’t look like he’s answering me. It looks like… I don’t know what it looks like.

That’s when he turns around and says: “Yeah, so he got your email. He wants to bang too.” I completely freeze. Not because of Garrett’s language. I’m used to that. But because there is only one person he actually talks to that way. In that room, somewhere I can’t see, is Bram.

Bram that heard me and my but mouth ruining any big gesture I might have planned.

“So, I’m going to go get a snack,” Garrett tells his still invisible friend. “Do not bang in my bed.”

Garrett winks at me and leaves his room.

I walk in, and Bram is really there, sitting cross-legged at the foot of Garrett’s bed, an English book open on his laps. The scene is so Bram that there is this sharp pain in my guts somewhere. He looks shell-shocked, and all the times I wanted to kiss him before are nothing compared to how much I want it now.

Slowly, carefully, he put his book away, stands up and walks to me. When he stops, he is right in personal space, both hands framing my face. He looks at me with such tenderness in his eyes that I almost forget where I am, and why I’m here.

He looks happy, he looks moved, he looks beautiful, he looks like he’s about to kiss me.

“Bram?”

“Simon?”

“What if I’m bad at this?”

“At what?”

“Kissing.”

Bram’s smile widens, but none of it is mocking. “You won’t be,” he assures me. I’m still nervous. What if he kisses me and the first thing he thinks is that Alex was better?

But Bram’s lips find mine, and I stop thinking. I close my eyes, and I get lost in the moment. The way Bram is pulling me closer and deepening the kiss, I know that he is too.

It is probably the last place I could have pictured for my first kiss – Garrett’s bedroom – but I don’t think any of us could have waited longer. Maybe we need to talk about it. But we have done so much talking already, and this is much, _much_ better.

When we break apart, slightly out of breath, but mostly nervous that Garrett will come back, I try to find in Bram’s eyes something that will tell me how I was. He seems to notice it, because he looks amused. “It was great, Simon.”

I try. I really do. But I can’t keep the words in: “As good as Alex?”

Bram’s face gets serious suddenly, and his eyes fall on my lips, giving me goose bumps. “No. That… didn’t even compare.” And his lips are back on mine, like magnetized.

He breaks the kiss much quicker this time. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Then louder, he adds: “It’s probably not the best place to be doing this. You were talking about wowing me, and that’s all I give you for a first kiss.”

“It’s perfect,” I say. And I mean it. Because even though this isn’t the place I would have chosen, this is absolutely the boy I chose, and it makes everything else fade away.

“It’s really not. Should we… take this somewhere else?”

I nod. Yes. Absolutely yes.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19219021/chapters/45695233)


	18. What if Bram was the one to find Simon's open email?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram has a paper to email. It's going to be a five minute job, maximum.  
> But the computer he uses is already logged on, and when he opens Gmail, he finds more that he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because apparently, I'm doing requests now...

It was supposed to be a five minutes job. Get in the library, log on to a computer, get my memory stick in, find my English literature paper and email it to Mr. Wise. Easy. I found a computer that was already logged on. That was another minute of loading screen gained.

But things don’t always go according to plan, right?

As I open Gmail, I see from the corner of my eye Martin Addison sit at another computer three or four sits down. I have no idea why my brain registers that information, but it almost feels important that he would choose that computer.

Gmail opens to someone else’s account. People are really careless. I am going to log out when I freeze. All of the emails are coming from the same email address. His. Not even his regular one. His secret email address. Jacques was on this computer a few minutes ago.

I try to remember. Did I pass someone when walking in? Probably. I didn’t pay attention.

My eyes dart to the start menu. I could click it and see the name of the account holder. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. I wouldn’t like for Jacques to do this to me. But I can’t help it. It’s almost subconscious. The start menu opens and my eyes are glued to the two words at the top of it.

Simon Spier.

I can’t believe it. I mean… I can, because I sort of knew it. Simon speaks like Jacques writes. But I can’t possibly be that lucky. There is no way that dreamy-lingering-moon-eyed Simon Spier would be Jacques.

It’s like both my realities collide, and I realize they fit together. All those times I forbade myself to think about that eventuality because it wasn’t fair to Jacques. Because the one thing I refused was to be disappointed when I would finally figure out who he is just because I created unrealistic expectations in my mind.

And in the end, it’s true.

I hear a chair scratch the floor, and I am suddenly reminded of where I am. I am having a life-altering revelation in the middle of a very public library.

That’s when it dawns on me that anyone could have found that open email. I should be mad at Jacques – _Simon_ – but I can’t. It feels like fate.

I switch the computer off. I’ll email the essay from home. It’s not due for another week anyway.

 

Lunch feels unreal. Simon is there, with his ridiculously cute laugh, and his mesmerizing eyes, and whenever looks at me, speaks to me, or speak altogether, my heart feels like it’s stopping. If things were confusing before, they are worse now. Which they shouldn’t be. Knowing that they are the same person should make everything easier, right?

I thought so too before seeing him. But now I have to face the truth. It was never about who Jacques might be. I always knew I would be fine with that. I didn’t know if I would be attracted to him – how could I before being in a room with him – but I knew I would be happy to meet him whoever he was. It might have worried me, but it’s not the part that terrified me.

Here is the part that terrifies me: Jacques – _Simon_ … I still need to get used to that – might be disappointed. When he closes his eyes and tries to picture Blue, he probably doesn’t see me. Being rejected by someone I barely even pass in the corridors would hurt. Being rejected by Simon would kill me.

Because right now, knowing everything I know about him, I want him more than anything else in my life.

As long as he hasn’t rejected me, there is still a chance I can have him. And I’m not ready to let that go.

 

In the course of the next weeks, I keep replying to Jacques emails as if I didn’t know who he was. It’s easy enough to compartmentalize when it’s through a screen. Even if I can’t help but reading Jacques’ emails playing with Simon’s voice in my head.

It’s different at school. When I see Simon, my mind is going back to our emails, but I also fully indulge myself in my attraction for him, now. My crush on Simon Spier isn’t betraying anyone. The only person that might get hurt from this is me.

 

In November, Simon sends me an email. It’s mostly just a list of all the Oreo food that exists and that I should try. Actually, it’s a guided route to diabetes. But it’s fun to read, and it’s just _so Simon_. But then there is this last line that kills me. It pretty much says that kids fantasize about food, and teenagers fantasize about sex.

Immediately flashes in my mind the image of Simon fantasizing about sex.

I quickly answer the Oreo part of his email. Then I add a part about him fantasizing about food and sex. I stare at the screen. Can I send that? I would definitely send it to Jacques, even if it would be a massive step for me.

But can I send that to Simon? Can I add a sexual dimension to our online relationship if only I know who the other one is?

Probably not. Lunches would become too confusing. So I delete that part and I hit send.

I go to bed upset and unhappy.

 

The next day, after school, I am with Garrett, on the soccer field. We decided to kick some balls, getting back in soccer mode before the try-outs. It’s just the two of us, which is good because I really didn’t bring my A game. It’s not just that I’m rusty from the lack of practice since last season, it’s also that my mind is still on my dilemma.

When we call it a day and start walking back to the car park, Garrett asks me: “Okay, what’s happening with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t B.S. me, Greenfeld. You’ve been moody for a couple of days, and I thought I should give you some time, but today, you were not with me on that pitch. I mean… playing against Spier would have been more challenging.”

Whoa. Straight where it hurts. “It’s nothing,” I say. What else could I tell him? How do I even start to describe what’s going on?

“Whatever you want, man. But I’m here if you need to talk. Or even if you don’t, and you just want to change your mind from… whatever is in there.”

He looks genuinely concerned, which makes me ask: “Garrett… If you really want something, you should go for it, right? No matter what?”

“I think you have to be more specific, dude. If you’re on the line of trying to be a movie star, then sure, go for it. If we are more talking raping girls, then I’m gonna say no.”

It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said. Then again, he’s not wrong.

“It’s not that, it’s… I think I’m in love.”

Garrett just stops and grabs my arm to make me stop too. He has the brightest smile on his face.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m in love with someone.”

“Someone I know?”

“Yes.”

Garrett’s eyes grow even wider. I don’t think I have ever seen him so happy. In a giddy, opening birthday presents kind of way. “Who is it?”

“Simon Spier.”

My voice is barely a whisper, but I know he understood me, because his smile fades. “Oh.” Oh. Right. Is that the end of the best friendship I ever had? “I’m sorry, man,” Garrett adds, and I’m not sure what he’s referring to.

“I’m not. He’s great.” I try to keep this light, but I know it’s not.

“What? No, not about Simon. It’s a much better choice than… Tyler Johnson, for instance. I’m sorry because I was expecting a girl’s name. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Something in my chest relaxes and I release a breath that was stuck in my chest since his ‘oh’. “It’s fine. Most boys fall in love with girls.”

“But not you, because you’re too amazing to do what most people do,” Garrett says. “So… are you playing for the other team, or for both?”

“Nope, just for the other team.”

“Great. Less competition for me. Ladies dig you, man.” I can tell that Garrett is trying to make this not weird, and it works. Everything he said is very Garrett. “But back to Spier. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. It might be weird. We’re friends.”

“No, we’re not.”

“What?”

“We are not friends with Spier. We are friends with Eisner. If it gets awkward, we can find another lunch table and still hang out with Nick at soccer practice.”

“Are you saying that you would give up lunch with Burke for me?”

“It’s not like I’m making progress anyway.” Garrett’s sentence hurts me for him a little bit. But it also gives me courage. If Garrett can get over his larger than life crush on Leah, maybe I can get over my first heartbreak. “But is Simon even playing in your team? Because if he’s not, there is no point in making things awkward for him as well.”

“He’s gay,” I say. It’s an unspoken LGBT rule. You don’t out someone. but I think that in these specific conditions, I get a free pass. I still feel shitty.

“He is?” I hum. “How do you know.”

“Garrett… If I tell you something, can you take it to the grave?”

“Sure. Anything for you.”

And I tell him the entire secret email thing, without mentioning the content of any of them, but including the moment I found Simon’s email open in the library. By the time I’m done, we’re both sitting on the bench.

“It sounds like he likes you too,” Garrett comments.

“No, he doesn’t. He likes a version of me that I craft carefully and that could look like anything he wants.”

“Fantasies never match reality, man. He’ll be thrilled to have the real you to play with rather than a fantasy one to think about.”

“He might not like me. He might be disappointed. He might be mad that I didn’t tell him the moment I found out who he was. He might…”

“Okay, just chill out for a minute,” he interrupts me. Simon likes you. I don’t know if he’s in love with you, or even if he wants to be with you, but he likes you. He clearly bonded with the online you, and he’s nothing but friendly with you at lunch. If anything, you’re the one not giving him anything. You’re like a prison door, at lunch.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. At least now, I get why. And he won’t be disappointed that it’s you. Because it’s always been you.”

“I might not look like what he wants.”

“Everyone has body image issues, Bram, but trust me, yours are ridiculous. It’s not the first time you mention not being attractive. At my Halloween party, Lisa Adams referred to you as ‘the most edible boy she’s ever seen’. And trust me, it sounded sexual.”

“Who even is Lisa Adams?”

“Exactly. Girls you don’t know would love to be all over you. So it might apply to a boy you do know. And for the being mad thing… I’m not gay, so I don’t know what it’s like. Finding that out about yourself and having to present it to the world. But I’m sure Spier does. He will understand not being ready more than anyone else could, I guess.”

I don’t know what to say to that. There is a logic in what he says that I can’t deny.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you more than that.”

“Trust me, you did.”

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 7.42 AM

SUBJECT: Big decision

 

Jacques,

Simon,

I know who you are. I don’t think I know. I know I know.

A couple of weeks ago, you logged into your Gmail account in school and you forgot to log out. I know I should have told you immediately because it imbalanced our relationship and it affected the way I replied to you in some ways, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

Please, believe that it didn’t come from me being disappointed in Jacques being you in any way. I actually don’t think I could have asked for more.

It’s quite the opposite. I am not sure how you will react to who I am, and that terrified me. I think it’s time to leave that behind. I don’t know what you want to do, but I’m ready for whatever that is.

If you need to keep some anonymity a while longer, that’s fine. I won’t be acting differently in school.

If you want me to tell you who I am, I will.

Your choice.

Love,

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 8.31 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Big decision

 

Blue,

I checked my phone ‘just in case’ this morning, and now my world is upside-down.

It is a lot to take in.

I can’t believe you know who I am and you’re _happy_ about it. It feels like I’m still dreaming, and I’ll wake up to realize that real life sucks. But it’s not. And it doesn’t.

Trust me, at this point, I won’t be disappointed by you. The way you signed that last email made my heart race so fast I literally had to sit down. And that’s you, no matter who you are.

I want to know who you are, but I don’t want you to tell me. I don’t want this part of our history to take place behind a screen. If you know me, you might know that my birthday is in two days. Should we meet after school? In the auditorium? There won’t be any rehearsal that day.

I’ll be there. Waiting for you.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

On his birthday, at lunch, Simon looks as restless as I feel. He also looks happy. Happier than even him would be about birthday cake and party hats. When Abby asks him why he’s so cheerful, he answers that he’s going to get his best birthday present ever today, and my stomach erupts in butterflies.

 

After school, I get to the bathroom to give myself a minute to freak out and build up the courage to do what I’m going to do. To also fully realize that this is going to be one of the big moments. The ones we remember forever.

I make my way to the auditorium from one of the side entrances. From here, I can see the stage. Simon is there, pacing, visibly nervous. He looks more beautiful than ever.

Just as I am about to step in and announce myself, the main door opens. That door is noisy and Simon’s head spins that way straight away. Mine almost does. But my gaze gets stopped in its course by Simon’s face. He looks so happy. Like his wildest dream just came true. That’s when I know I can’t look. I can’t know who he is so happy to be Blue.

“It _is_ you,” Simon says, crushing me. He was hoping for Blue to be someone, and that someone isn’t me.

“What?”

I know that voice. That’s Cal Price.

I can’t. I just can’t.

So I leave.

 

Before I know it, I’m at Garrett’s. I swear I didn’t think I would cry. But here I am, crying like a baby, my best friend hugging me like someone died.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 18 at 6.17 AM

SUBJECT: I get it

 

Blue,

I waited for you in the auditorium. I even mistook someone for you. So that was awkward, as you can imagine.

I get why you didn’t show. Just because it would have been a romantic timing doesn’t mean it was the right timing. And just because I was reckless doesn’t mean you should suddenly be ready.

I get it. On your own time.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 18 at 9.03 AM

SUBJECT: No you don’t

 

Simon,

I was there too. I saw your face when you thought Cal Price was me.

I don’t think this will work.

Blue.

 

 

The next day as I’m walking into the cafeteria, Garrett says: “We’re having lunch with Max and the basketball team today.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

I nod. I’m so grateful for Garrett. Some – most – of the guys in the basketball teams are hot. Objectively hot. But none of them gets me tongue-tied. For the first time in months, I hold a conversation at lunch.

Until Simon passes next to our table and stops.

“Hi, guys. Change of scenery today?”

“Yeah,” Garrett says. “Eisner overdose.” He has an easy smile, indicating that it’s just a joke.

Simon has a sort of agreeing pout. “Fair enough. Please get over it soon. We are outnumbered by girls, and I don’t think Nick is handling it very well.” We all sort of politely laugh, and Simon is gone.

I hate how normal he is. Like he doesn’t care about yesterday.

My mind shouldn’t go there, at all, but I can’t but wonder if something happened yesterday between Simon and Cal Price. Simon looked so happy about the prospect of Cal being Blue, and I have seen Cal look at Simon in ways that made me feel territorial before. In the end, will that be what I will have been? The catalyst in their love story.

That idea just burns.

I leave lunch early.

 

I don’t know why, but my steps take me to the auditorium. I must secretly hate myself. When I walk in, Simon is there. Sitting on the stage. I used the main door this time, so his eyes spot me instantly.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi.”

It’s awkward. I don’t know what would be weirder. Leaving or walking to him. But the boy is like a magnet, because I’m slowly walking towards the stage. He has his phone in his hand and he is fidgeting with it. He looks… I actually have no idea what the expression on his face is.

“Are you alright?” It’s probably the first question I ever asked him directly.

“Yeah. Just an email I have been trying to write since yesterday.”

He could be referring to a lot of things. But I really hope that email is for Blue.

“It’s just an email.”

He smiles, but that absolutely doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not. It has to be perfect. It’s life or death.”

“That serious, huh?”

“If someone really screwed up, how would you like them to apologize to you.”

This conversation just took an unexpected turn. Why do I keep getting put in a situation where I know more than him?

“It depends on what you did, I suppose.”

Simon looks at me, and he looks torn. Like he wants to talk about it, but he also knows that we don’t really know each other. We are friendly but not friends. That’s when I realize that we are both hurting. Because of my lack of courage. I need to rip the band-aid. One way or another, we need out of that odd limbo.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I say. I’m right in front of the stage, now. If I extended my arm, I could touch his face.

“I do. I hurt someone.”

“You can’t help who you like.”

Confusion spreads on Simon’s face, slowly replaced by understanding, then surprise.

“It’s you…”

“It’s me.”

He frowns. “Is that why you ditched us for lunch?”

“Yeah, it… I didn’t want to have to sit and listen to your bonding story with Cal Price.”

“What bonding story? It took me five seconds to realize that I had been wrong, ten more to tell him that I was waiting for someone. And then I just waited. Two hours, Bram. I waited for you even when I _knew_ you weren’t going to show up. Even now, when you walked in, my heart skipped a beat. I thought ‘please be a really late Blue’. I just didn’t think I could be right.”

My throat is very tight. “Simon…”

“I’m sorry I guessed wrong, and I’m sorry you had to see it. But I was happier about guessing right than I was about Cal. I was an idiot. It’s just… it was hard, you know. Emailing and not having an image in my mind. So I looked for you everywhere. I think your username just threw me off.”

“It’s not…” I was about to explain my username, but maybe now is not the time. Maybe we have more pressing things to discuss. “I understand why you hoped he would be Blue.”

“That’s the thing, Bram. I didn’t hope. I just thought.”

“But that made you happy.”

“Anyone would have made me happy. It was supposed to be Blue. Don’t you get that? It’s you. I have spent days and nights trying to figure out if what we had online felt like a relationship just for me, or if we were in an odd relationship. The moment I realized he wasn’t you, all the times I pictured Cal as you just made me feel like I had cheated on you in a way.”

“I’m still very different from what you imagined. I told you that you are everything I wanted and it’s true. I have been so lucky on this one. I understand if that’s not how you feel.”

“You’re joking, right? Bram, you are so much better than Cal Price.”

“I… what?”

Simon slides of the stage, and he is right in front of me. We almost share the same breath. “When I get to your games, I’m often staring at you. When you look at me at lunch, my stomach squeezes. When you give an answer in English, I’m always so impressed. I understand why you feel like you’re not good enough, because it’s a feeling I often have when thinking about Blue. But you shouldn’t. I really am the lucky one in this.”

This is too much. I can’t help myself after this. I grab his face and I kiss him. He puts his hands on my sides and he kisses me back.

The bell rings, making us both jump. Right. There is still a world.

“Do you want to skip next period?” Simon asks.

I don’t even think about it, which is very un-me. “Absolutely.”

We have so much to talk about. Where we see this going. What we are. If we should still email. Coming out. At least to our families. Telling our friends. Maybe, if we find a room that locks, or if we manage to get to our cars, we can even do more kissing.

I’ve only done that once, but that became my new favorite activity ever.

It’s probably kissing. It’s most likely Simon.

 

 


	19. What if Bram's mom got a promotion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram is falling more and more for the boy on the other side of the screen. Slowly but surely, he is getting ready to meet him.  
> But then his mom gets a promotion and that completely messes up the timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was halfway through writing this when I realized that the timeline has a few similarities with the one in the previous chapter. I'm sorry if that feels a bit redundant or déjà-vu.  
> Then again, if that was a big issue, you probably wouldn't still be here for Chapter 19, right? ;)

When my mother calls me for dinner, I jump. My mind was miles away. I just sent an email to Jacques in which I pretty much told him that I was thinking about him. Sexually. I know I live in a generation where teenagers sext, have sex and watch porn. But that’s miles away from me. For me, hitting send after that one, almost innocent comment, is a massive step that I wouldn’t have taken for anyone else.

I make my way to the dining room, thinking about my mysterious online friend. I have some suspicions as to who it might be, but I try not to let my mind go there. I don’t want to guess wrong, but I also don’t want to know yet. As it is, this relationship is easier if we have anonymity.

Plus, things are confusing as it is. I know it shouldn’t be a thing, but I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with the boy on the other side of the screen. He’s constantly on my mind, he makes me feel funny, strong, smart, wonderful. He cheers me up when I’m feeling sad or stressed, and he humors me when I’m feeling silly or playful. We can have light or deep conversations. He feels like my safe space.

Do I make him feel like that? I really hope I do.

 

My mom made my favorite. It’s not a good sign. It is a long dish to prepare, so she usually keeps it for big occasions, like birthdays. I perfectly and vividly remember the last two times she made that dish out of the blue. Last time, she told me we were moving to Atlanta. The previous one, my parents told me about their divorce.

I don’t like it as much as I used to.

My mother sees my face, and she understands that I know she has something to tell me. She points at the chair, and I sit down, not knowing what to expect. Hopefully, it will be something along the lines of her having met someone. It would be weird, but I would be happy for her. I guess. My dad remarried, so why shouldn’t she?

“Bram, baby, do you remember what I told you when we left for Atlanta? When we knew it was going to be just you and me?”

I nod. I remember. I especially remember because I have not been true to it. “Yes. You said that we both would have to stick together. That we should be honest and open with each other.”

“Exactly. So here is the thing. I have not done that. I have kept things from you. And I think you have too.”

I feel uneasy. What does she know? How does she know?

“Mom, I…”

“You don’t have to go first. You don’t even have to tell me. But whatever it is you’re hiding, I can see it’s weighing on you.”

I swallow my saliva, feeling a lump grow in my throat. I take a deep breath. I can’t cry now. “I’ll go first,” I say. If she knows something is on my mind, I think she deserves to know what it is. “Mom, I’m gay.”

Her face just… relaxes. She almost looks relieved. I don’t know what she imagined, but I’m glad it shines a positive light on my coming out.

“You’re gay?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you for telling me, baby.” She takes a bit, and then she adds. “Any boyfriend?”

“No.”

She looks relieved. I don’t know how to interpret that. I can’t tell if she’s fine with me being gay, or not. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

“No, I want to hear your secret.”

She nods. “Do you remember why we moved to Atlanta?”

“Of course I do. You took that job at the CDC.”

“I did. And it was an incredible opportunity for my career. I felt bad, though. Uprooting you like this. We had enough changes already, with your father leaving, and the divorce, and… I wanted to give you stability.”

“And you have. Mom, I’m happy. I made friends, I have good grades, I’m on the soccer team… It was hard, but it’s all good now.”

She doesn’t look satisfied. “I know that. Which is why I declined their promotion when they offered it the first time. But they offered again, and I realized that I had been thinking about it ever since I refused. If it were just me, I would jump on the occasion. But I am a mother. I need to put you first.”

“What kind of promotion?”

“Lead researcher. They would give me my own team.”

“Mom, that’s great! That’s your dream job!”

“It is. But it starts with an eighteen months collaboration with other teams at the ECDC.”

“The ECDC? In Stockholm?”

“That’s the one.”

Wow. I mean… wow.

“So… we’d have to move to Europe?”

She sighs. “It is an incredibly rare opportunity. The job and the collaboration. For me, eighteen months is nothing. For you… it’s the end of your high school life. I wanted to tell you about it, because I do want this job, and it could be a fantastic opportunity for you too. To live abroad, to travel through Europe this summer, to expand your horizons before university. But there are other options. Your father said you could go live with him. If you want to.”

“I don’t.”

“Bram…”

“Mom… Dad didn’t leave you. He left us. He didn’t talk to me, he didn’t ask me what I wanted, he just left. The only reason I don’t hate him right now is because _you_ defended him and explained his side of the story too. Which was the most selfless act I’ve ever witnessed in my life. I know they’re trying to have a family. I don’t fit in all of this.”

“You could, baby.”

“I know. But I don’t want to try. I don’t want to be the one making the effort to move from seeing my father three times a year, including a religious ceremony in a hotel room, to being the perfect American family.”

“Okay. I get that. You and your father… it will take time. Then we have a third option.”

“Which is what?”

“We do nothing. I keep my job as an epidemiologist, you keep going to school, and life continues as before. I mean… except now I’ll pay more attention when you tell me you’re going at Garrett’s.”

“What? No, Mom… It’s not like that.”

“If you say so. But… regarding Europe… I have to give them an answer soon.”

“How soon?”

“Two days.”

“And when would we have to move.”

“Just before the Christmas break.”

“That’s in a month!”

“I know, baby. But I told you, we don’t have to go. It’s your decision.”

“Mom, I… I don’t want the weight of the decision. I don’t want to decide your future for you.”

“I’ve done that for you once, Bram. I don’t want to uproot you again if you’re not one hundred percent fine with it.”

“I’m not. I can’t be a hundred percent fine with it. But I’m not a hundred percent fine with staying here either. Not if it takes your dream away from you.”

“Fine. Let’s look at it another way. Are you against moving?”

I take a moment to think about it. I can’t lie about this. Not to her, and not to myself. I don’t really want to go. But I also sort of want to. She’s right. Living in Europe for eighteen months would be an incredible opportunity. I can’t let high school friendships and familiar patterns hold me back. Maybe it’s time to take another bold step. “No, I’m not.”

“We’re going, then.”

I nod. It’s a good thing. I know it is. Even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.

 

When I get back to my room, my Gmail account is still open.

Jacques.

Fuck.

Then again, it’s not like he would have turned into anything real.

 

Today school is weird. It’s so different looking at things when you know they won’t last. It’s harder to make an effort, too.

Garrett notices because as we’re leaving school, he grabs me by the arm and drags me to an empty classroom. “Okay, Greenfeld, can I know what’s in your head?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you think,” he says with a happy smile.

“You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

“Okay, B, stop. What’s up with you today?”

I know I’m not being fair on Garrett, but I can’t seem to stop. That’s when I have the most disgusting thought ever. This one is fair neither to him nor me.

“I came out to my mom, yesterday.” It’s a wicked way to come out to Garrett. Part of me is hoping, almost praying, that he will react badly, or even weirdly, and then it will be that much easier to leave him behind. Things will be easier if I don’t have a best friend.

“Oh. Woah. I’m proud of you, B. How did it go?” Damn it, Garrett. Why can’t you be at least casually homophobic? Like, at least ask me if I’m sure I’m gay. Or if I’m into you.

“Fine.”

“You don’t look, or act, like someone who’s coming out went fine.”

“It did, really, it’s just… I’m moving.”

“Again? Well, aren’t you the little nomadic family. Is that why you’ve been snappy and cranky all day? Because you know I’m not like your Savannah friends, right? I’ll take the drive every weekend if I have to, but I’m not going to let you out of my life.”

“I’m moving to Sweden.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll let you be a dick for one more day.”

I won’t find another Garrett in Sweden.

 

Garrett promised me we would stay in touch. He even downloaded an app on his phone to learn Swedish. I told him it wasn’t necessary, because I would still know how to speak English, but he said it wasn’t for me. It was to be able to talk to girls when he’ll come to visit me.

I know it’s odd, but when he said that, I knew it would happen. I can perfectly picture Garrett flying half the world to come and visit me. And hit on Swedish girls.

Maybe leaving things behind doesn’t mean giving up on them.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 7.11 PM

SUBJECT: ?

 

Jacques,

I spent five minutes trying to find a subject to this email, and I couldn’t find one. I don’t know how to summarize this in a couple of words.

Something happened. I’m moving. To Europe. It feels like this massive change in my life. As if I had to leave everything behind. That’s when it occurred to me that maybe I don’t. Maybe I could take you with me.

I know our relationship… correspondence… whatever this is, started because we were going through the same things, but maybe now we can continue sharing even if we don’t live the same experiences anymore.

We don’t know each other outside of our screens, so we won’t even feel the distance. I know I could have said nothing and just carried on as we always do, but I don’t want to lie to you. I don’t ever want to lie to you.

So, Jacques, will you be my long-distance-anonymous-online-pen-pal?

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 8.23 PM

SUBJECT: Re:?

 

Blue,

EUROPE???

That sounds… both the greatest and the worst thing.

I mean… it’s fantastic for you. I’m even a bit jealous. It’s going to be so enriching. And I think it fits you, Blue. You seem like someone who should spend some time in Europe. I can definitely picture you in London. Or Berlin. Or Barcelona.

But it also sucks. I had this idea that we would meet at some point, you know? Be actual friends. Maybe more. Your last email made me think that maybe we were heading for more. I’m sorry if I misread that.

Of course, you can take me with you. At the age of global communication, we’re not going to let a stupid ocean keep us apart, right? You feel like my best friend in a lot of ways, and I don’t want to lose that. I want to be able to keep sharing all those things with you. The serious ones and the silly ones. I hope you will too.

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 8.53 PM

SUBJECT: Re:?

 

Jacques,

I have been struggling with the idea of leaving, and somehow, you telling me that I belong there calms me down. I’m so glad I get to keep you in my life. I think you will be my lifebelt when I get there.

You didn’t misread the intentions behind my email. I think I wanted us to meet, when we would have been ready, and maybe be more than friends. I’m sure this link we share online would have transpired in real life.

I guess we’ll never know, now.

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 16 at 10.18 PM

SUBJECT: Re:?

 

Blue,

Please don’t freak out. Believe when I say you can definitively say no and things will remain just the way they are. Now and when you’re in Europe. But your email has been swirling non-stop in my head, especially the last line.

I don’t want to never know. I very much want to know.

I realize it’s crazy, because we were supposed to have more time to get ready, and that we already are on borrowed time. But I don’t want to wonder for the rest of my life.

Perhaps we won’t like each other that much and it will just make sense to be online friends. But maybe… I don’t know what may happen. But don’t you want to find out.

Again, no pressure. I get it. It’s a crazy thought.

Jacques.

 

 

I only see Jacques’ email when I get up that morning. I’m thinking about it all day. Four weeks. I leave in four weeks. What would even be the point of meeting Jacques? But he is right. I very much want to know too.

At lunch, I am reminded that it is Simon Spier’s birthday. Simon Spier, who speaks like Jacques type. That’s how badly I want to meet Jacques. I picture him everywhere. I find him in every detail.

But what if he is disappointed? Maybe it is better to leave not knowing. It feels like either way, it doesn’t end well.

Just as I am thinking that Jacques and I should remain anonymous, Abby says: “Okay, Simon. Make a birthday wish.”

“I wish Europe wasn’t that far,” he says, and I freeze. It could still be a coincidence. But it would be quite a coincidence. Two people in school know I’m leaving. Garrett, but he hasn’t said a word to anyone. He actually looks surprised by Simon’s comment, as if he can’t believe I would put him in the confidence. And there is Jacques.

Jacques who I’m 90% sure is sitting in front of me.

“I know, right,” Garrett says and I don’t know how to make him stop talking without everyone noticing. So, he finishes his sentence. “Lunch won’t be the same without Bram.”

Everyone stares at us now. Garrett seems to realize that he made a mistake and I swear he shrinks.

“Greenfeld…” Nick says. “What is he talking about?”

“I’m moving to Stockholm,” I say.

“Wait, what?” Abby looks much more emotional than I thought she would be. “You’re leaving?” I nod. “When?”

“Four weeks.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Leah asks, and she looks annoyed. I don’t think she likes emotional moments that much.

“It’s Simon’s day.” I look at him, and he just stares at me. He looks completely dazed. Now I’m 99% sure.

“It’s going to be so weird without you,” Morgan says and I have no idea where it’s coming from. I’m really quiet at lunch, and I don’t think we spoke more than twice since I moved here. It’s still nice to hear, I guess.

 

After school, Simon just materializes by my locker.

“Hi,” I say, nervous.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

“Don’t you have play practice?”

“I really don’t think it’s the most important thing I should be doing right now,” he answers, and I don’t answer back because I completely agree.

“Where do you want to do this?”

“Do you want to go to WaHo?”

“Sure.”

 

The Waffle House is nearly empty when we get there. We choose the booth in the end. It’s the most private one.

For people who have been emailing their most private thoughts, we are incredibly quiet. Simon orders a waffle, but I’m too nervous to eat so I just get a coffee.

“So…” Simon starts when the waitress leaves. “It’s you.”

“And it’s you”.

“How do you feel about that?” he asks, and he looks genuinely nervous.

“I don’t know. It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“But I’m so glad it’s you,” I say. Because it’s true. I think that if I could have picked, I would have picked Simon.

He looks relieved. “I’m glad too. I would never have thought…”

“That I’m gay?”

“No, true, but… I also wouldn’t have thought you were in my league.” That sentence surprises me. I wish I could see myself through his eyes because I didn’t know anyone could think that about me.

The waitress comes back with the order. I put my hands around the cup to warm them. My fingers always get cold when I’m nervous.

“Stockholm, huh?”

“Yep. My mom got a job at the ECDC.”

“What’s that?”

“The European Center for Disease Prevention and Control. It’s their equivalent of the CDC we have in Atlanta.”

“And you leave in four weeks?”

“December sixteenth.”

“For how long?”

“Eighteen months.”

I can see Simon do the math. “You won’t be back before we all have to go to university, will you?”

I shake my head. Simon closes his eyes and leans back, head pressed against his seat. He looks like he’s in pain, and I really want to hold his hand. Not even in a romantic way. I just want to comfort him. But it’s not the relationship we have, and doing that right now would just be… confusing.

“I was really hoping I would be disappointed in you,” Simon says with his eyes still closed. “That I would think that we could only be friends anyway, so it wouldn’t feel like such a loss to keep it online.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Simon opens his eyes and looks at me. He looks determined. Like he has nothing to lose. He probably doesn’t. I’m gone in twenty-nine days. “You don’t know. I call you Cute Bram Greenfeld in my head.”

I can feel the surprise spread on my face. Simon has this adorable embarrassed smile, and I answer. “I’ve had a crush on you since… I don’t know… my second or third week here.” Now I can see surprise painted all over Simon’s face. Does he really not know how cute he is? Has he ever _seen_ his eyes in a mirror?

“Bram…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, and we just stare at one another. I want to kiss him. I don’t think I ever wanted anything more in my life. Even if we’re in public. Even if I’m not really out. I’m sure it would be worth it. I think I see the same thing in his eyes.

His hands slide on the table, approaching mine. When he’s about to touch me, I pull back.

“Simon, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Four weeks, Simon. What are we going to do, but build ourselves a massive heartbreak?”

“If there is heartbreak, that means that came before was worth it.”

I mean. I can’t quite argue with that.

“It sounds like a terrible idea,” I say, but my voice doesn’t sound as confident as it used to.

“Is it bad that I want to pursue it anyway?” I look into his moon-eyes, and I know I’ve lost. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asks.

“My mom isn’t home,” my lips say on their own. His face lights up like a Christmas tree.

 

It’s so out of my comfort zone. Having a boy I might kiss in my house. I show him around, and it really feels like I’m stalling. Which I am. I have never kissed anyone, and it almost feels like it’s too much. Like I won’t be able to do it.

“And that’s my room.” I feel stupid. Why would I say that? It’s clearly not my mom’s room. Nor the kitchen. But Simon doesn’t seem to notice. He looks around like he has been waiting to see more of Blue’s world for ages. Or maybe I just project myself in him.

Suddenly, Simon is not looking at the room anymore. He’s looking at me. And he’s slowly walking towards me. I can’t do anything but stare at him the entire time. He stops right in front of me and I let my fingers find his. Our touch gives me butterflies and the way he looks at me gives me chills.

I don’t know which one of us moves first, but my eyes close shut the moment ours lips touch.

It was the worst idea. I’m never going to be able to leave, now. But Simon was right. It will only hurt because what happened first was worth it. I pull Simon in closer. If I’m going to have my heart broken, I’m sure as hell going to make sure that I will make the most of what comes before.

 

  * **Week -4**



After what he called ‘his best birthday ever’, my mind is constantly occupied by Simon. And the kiss.

Simon and I are exchanging looks at school. My eyes find him immediately whenever I enter a room. If I thought I was into him before, I had no idea. He skips play and I skip soccer. We find places to kiss or make out like the hormonal, running out of time, teenage boys that we are.

I refuse to think about the – not so distant – future. There is only the present and it’s great.

 

  * **Week -3**



Simon comes out to his parents by introducing me as his boyfriend. It feels like the biggest high of my life. Then his mother asks us if we are serious, and my high is freefalling until it crashes on the ground and shatters.

How can I tell her that I would be if only the universe didn’t hate me?

At Thanksgiving, my mom says that she is grateful for her dream son that allows her to go after her dream job. I say that I’m grateful for Simon. I see that it breaks her heart a little bit, but I need to share that with her. This odd mix of wonderful and awful feelings that my relationship with Simon is creating in my heart. I see in her eyes that she gets it.

 

  * **Week -2**



Simon and I go on a date to Atlanta. A real date. As boyfriends. The evening is perfect. Simon is perfect. I am falling. Hard. It’s terrifying.

We should have kept this online. When we are together, this is perfect. Whenever I’m alone, home and packing, it is torture.

At this point, I think that Simon is so deep under my skin that if he asked me to stay, I would. Which makes no sense. It’s been three weeks.

Simon meets my mom and it goes incredibly smoothly. What could have been is killing me.

 

  * **Week -1**



My friends throw me a goodbye party, and it gets me so emotional. It’s only the lunch table and most of the soccer team, but they all feel like real friends and it’s perfect. They all say something about me, and I have never felt so loved and valued before. I think it’s an evening I will remember and cherish for the rest of my life.

At some point, I tell Garrett that I’m sorry we didn’t spend more time together lately. He tells me that it hurt that I would ditch him just because I found another dick, but that he gets it. It’s fine. I’ve learned how to speak Garrett, and in Garrett language, that meant that he loves me and that he’ll miss me. For the first time of the evening, I can’t keep my tears inside, and we hug. Longer than socially acceptable for boys, but screw that.

Before leaving, Leah hugs me, and I can feel a tear on her cheek. She promises me that if I ever tell anyone that, she’ll hire a Swedish hitman. I know she’s kidding, but the look in her eyes is still terrifying.

 

  * **Day -1**



The taxi will collect us tomorrow morning at eleven. The house doesn’t really look empty because my mom only packed the essential. You don’t move to Europe the same way you move intra-State. My grandma is going to be in charge of renting the house while we’re away.

Still… the pictures are gone, the clothes and toiletries are packed away, we don’t have the Internet or TV anymore. It feels like a house I know, but not like a home.

It’s not sad yet, though, because Simon is here. He’s sitting on my bed, and he promised he would stay until his curfew. We’re both ignoring that this is it. It’s the last time we’ll see each other.

I look at him, and I say the one thing we both know but never said. It needs to be said. “Simon… I don’t think we should try long distance.”

“I know.”

“It’s not… It’s not that I don’t want to,” I promise. “You’re still the best thing that ever happened to me, but…”

“But it’s eighteen months. And then university. And then we’ll just be people that grew apart.” I feel my heart being ripped open and that’s it. I’m crying. There is no sobbing, or anything. Just tears that I can’t keep in. I can see their twins on Simon’s cheeks. “But we’ll still email, right?” he asks.

“Of course! Everyday. I told you. You’re my safe place.”

“And you’re still my best friend in a lot of ways.”

“If we go long distance, we’ll just hold each other back. It wouldn’t be fair, and it would end with one of us resenting the other. But as friends, I know we can make it.”

“I know it too. I’m so your BFF. Well… second to Garrett, but still.”

I laugh. In spite of the tears, it truly is a happy laugh.

“Can we start being friends tomorrow?” he asks. I nod, and we kiss like tonight is all we have. Because it is.

 

Simon and I are lying on my bed, side by side, holding hands, listing all the European places I definitely have to visit while I’m there, when there is a knock on the door and my mother comes in. “I was just on the phone with Simon’s father,” she says.

“Is it time for me to go?” Simon asks, and my heart starts racing. Not now. Not yet. I’m not ready.

“No, we agreed you can spend the night here. If you want.”

Simon and I exchange a look and he answers: “I would love to. Thank you, Mrs. Greenfeld.”

She nods, but she doesn’t leave right away. She hesitates and then she says “Boys… when we’re upset, we don’t always make the smartest decisions.” We all know what she means. But when she leaves, she closes the door anyway.

 

The house is quiet. Simon and I are both in our underwear and old t-shirts that I’m going to leave behind. We are in bed, spooning, and we should be getting some sleep. I’ve never felt more awake, though.

Apparently, he isn’t tired either, because he turns around and his eyes are wide awake. He puts his forehead against mine and lightly brushes my face with his fingers.

Soon, Simon and I are kissing like it’s breathing, and I can feel that it’s not like the other times. It feels different. More serious. The kisses are different. The hands don’t touch the same way. His or mine. Our breathing is different too.

“Simon… maybe we shouldn’t… maybe we should slow down… We won’t be able to take this back, and I don’t want you to regret it. Not in the morning, not in a week, not ever.”

“Bram, the only thing I might regret is not sharing this with you.”

I nod. I feel exactly the same way. “I don’t have…”

“I do,” he answers, and my eyes go wide.

“I didn’t bring it to… it’s been in my bag since… I…” I kiss him to shut him up and take him out of his misery. He kisses me back, and we barely break apart as we get undressed. We kiss, and laugh, and whisper loving words, and share reassuring smiles as we walk through the awkwardness, the technicality, the novelty of intimacy.

It’s better than anything I imagined. Not just physically.

 

It’s really late. We’re only a couple of hours away from sunrise. We’re still wide awake, limbs entangled, talking about everything.

“I can’t believe you’re going to replace me by a Viking,” Simon says.

“I don’t think that’s my type.”

“Oh? And what’s your type?”

“I don’t know… I guess a boy with a bit of a problem with sentence fragments, who hide from he’s eight grade girlfriend in a bathroom on Valentine’s day, eat tons of Oreos, listen to weirdly depressing music but never wear band T-shirts.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“I guess I have a very specific type.”

Simon rubs his face against my chest and I hold him tight. “You know,” he says, “I had this crazy idea that you and I were meant to be. Back when we were emailing.”

“We were meant to be. We’re just not meant to last.”

“We are meant to last,” he tempers. “Just not the way we’d like.”

“I am going to miss you so much,” I whisper.

“You’ll be busy discovering a new world and building yourself a new life. I’ll be stuck here, in my mundane everyday life, surrounded by all the memories of you. Trust me, I’ll miss you more.”

I kiss him. What other answer could I give him?

 

We are waiting for the taxi, sitting on my porch steps. Simon is by my side, but we don’t hold hands. We don’t touch at all.

That’s it. We’re not boyfriends anymore.

I am aware of every molecule of air between us.

 

The taxi arrives, five minutes early, and after putting all the suitcases in, my mother gets in to give us the space to say goodbye.

We hug, and there and then, I know I won’t have the strength to let go. After a while, Simon says “Ten.” I reply “Nine.” We keep counting down in our heads, but at zero, we both let go.

I get in the cab and I don’t look back. I don’t think I would be able to handle looking back.

 

I am at the airport, about to board, and I get my phone out of my pocket to switch it off.

I see the notification and my heart stops.

I read the title of the email and my heart starts again, double the speed.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 16 at 11.57 AM

SUBJECT: One last thing I need to say before I’m not allowed to anymore.

 

Bram,

I love you,

Simon.

 

 

I don’t have time to reply now, but I’ll do it as soon as I get any Wi-Fi.

I have to say it back. Before I’m not allowed to anymore.

 

I know this is going to be an incredible adventure. It’s Europe. So many countries with so many different cultures just a short flight away. And Sweden is supposed to be the happiest place on Earth. There will be warm summers and incredibly snowy winters. I will learn a new language, meet new people, grow a different mindset. And it’s not forever.

But my mind is stuck on Simon. I would give all of these opportunities away for Simon. Who I secretly wish would wait for me for those eighteen months. But then what? We probably won’t end up in the same university anyway.

That’s the thing about the United States. It’s roughly the same size as Europe. I have more chances to encounter the whole cast of Harry Potter in the streets of Stockholm than to end up in the same university as Simon.

We objectively can’t wait for the other for over five years. Not when all we have to cement the relationship is a bunch of emails, a couple of weeks as boyfriends, and a few kisses. But there is last night. This amazing night that will stay with me forever. That links Simon and me, Jacques and Blue, forever. It’s still not enough to make us defeat the odds, though.

We are going to be amazing friends. But that’s all we can be without resenting the other for all of the missed opportunities. I will rather have a wonderful new best friend than a wonderful ex-boyfriend that I couldn’t keep.

It was the logical decision. It was the best decision.

Yet, when the plane takes off, it feels like my heart stays on the ground. It hurts like hell to be ripped apart from it, and I have to use everything I have to not start sobbing and crying. I definitely would if I didn’t think it would crush my mom.

 

Simon was right. It hurts that much because everything that happened before was worth it and incredible.

Let’s focus on that for now. Let’s not be sad for Bram and Simon. Let’s be happy for Blue and Jacques.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477189)


	20. What if Nick and Garrett couldn't mind their own business?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick knows something about Simon. Garrett knows something about Bram. They really want to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this one, I sort of combined two requests together. Because I'm that lazy.  
> I hope it meets your expectations.

**Nick**

 

Abby laughs, and it’s probably the best sound I ever heard. Especially since she’s laughing at something I said.

I think it’s time to admit it to myself. I really like her. As in I wish she was my girlfriend.

She looks at me with her big hazel eyes, and I need to change the subject. Before saying something I can’t take back and ruin everything.

“And how is the play going?”

“Great. I still have a few lines that I can’t seem to remember, but Simon and Martin are really helping me. It’s making a difference.”

“Good.” But I don’t really mean it. It’s great that she is getting better with her lines, and I am super happy that Simon is helping her, but I really don’t like Martin. And it’s not because he is so obviously into Abby. It goes back longer than that. I’m not entirely sure why. Everyone finds him funny and he objectively is. But he makes me a bit uneasy. Like he actually is not the good, funny guy he seems. Like he could do something really shitty to someone and don’t think twice about it.

Also, he’s clearly into Abby. That clearly was the last straw.

But he’s friends with Abby and Simon. Maybe I should make an effort and give him a chance. I don’t know.

“And Simon said something about the costumes being nearly ready,” I say to keep my mind off Martin.

“I wouldn’t call them nearly finished. Simon’s is because… okay, you know I don’t mean that in any pejorative way, I’m just stating a fact, he isn’t a main character. Bigger roles have more complex costumes. Taylor’s is probably never going to get done because she keeps complaining about things or saying that stuff should be added to it… She’s a bit of a pain about it. That’s part of her charm, I guess. But yes, Simon’s is done.”

“Does he look good in it.”

“Not yet, but I plan on making him wear eye-liner on the day, and I swear he will look hot.”

The idea of Simon with eyeliner makes me laugh. “I can’t wait to see that. Don’t make him look too hot, though. I don’t want any competition with the ladies.”

It was a joke. Not a very good one, but I thought it would at least get me a smile from her. It doesn’t. Instead, she makes a face. I feel like I’ve said something incredibly stupid, but I don’t know what. I’m about to ask her, but she swiftly changes the subject. It bothers me because I don’t understand what just happened, but I follow her lead and I try to let it go.

 

I forget all about it until one Saturday after school. Simon and Leah are in my basement and we’re playing video-games, like we often do. I don’t know why, but whenever I look at Simon, Abby’s weird face pops in my mind.

I don’t know what that face meant. I really don’t. Other than she knows something I don’t and that she doesn’t want to be the one saying it. I also got that it has to do with Simon. And the ladies. So I have to ask. “Si, do you have a girlfriend?”

Simon and Leah both freeze and shift to face me. Should have I waited until it was just Simon and me?

“That’s ridiculous,” Leah says. “Simon would have told us if he had a girlfriend.” She turns to Simon. “Right, Si?”

“Hum… yeah. Yes. I would have told you if I had a girlfriend. I don’t. Have one. Girlfriend. I don’t have one of those.”

Leah and I exchange a look. She phrases my thoughts. “Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not,” he defends himself.

“No, I’m with her on this one. You’re being weird.” Simon doesn’t make eye contact with us and I think he even blushes a bit. So I push a bit further. “I was talking with Abby, and…”

“What did Abby tell you?” he interrupts me. Wow. He looks… scared? What does Abby have on him? I exchange another look with Leah and she looks as worried as I feel.

“Nothing. Si, bud, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t sound fine.

“Si?” Leah says, and her voice is the most caring I’ve ever heard. I think I should let her take the lead on this one. Clearly, I’ve done enough damage already with my big mouth. “Is there anything you want to tell us?”

Simon doesn’t say anything. He’s still not looking at us.

“If you don’t want to tell us, that’s fine, but… you know you can, right?”

Simon nods.

“Okay, bud, you’re scaring me,” I say. “How bad is it?”

“It’s nothing bad,” he says with a weak voice. “It’s just… I don’t want it to affect the way you guys see me.”

“It won’t,” Leah swears. “Right, Nick.”

“Yeah, she’s right.”

Simon mumbles something that I don’t understand, but given Leah’s face, she did. “Guys, I’m sorry, I missed that.”

“I’m gay,” Simon repeats.

Oh, thank God. No one died, he’s fine, he’s not dating Abby, he doesn’t have a weird crush on Leah, he didn’t just have his heart broken by anyone, or any of the other ideas that passed through my mind since he stopped making eye contact with us.

Leah’s arms are suddenly around Simon, which is extraordinary. Leah hates physical contact. But it’s clear on Simon’s face that he needed that. Maybe he needs something similar from me. “I don’t really want to, but do you need me to turn that into a group hug?” I don’t think I’ve ever hugged Simon. Not even the bro kind. He laughs, and I feel a knot loosen in my stomach. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Sure? Because I’d totally do it.”

“I’m sure you would.”

“So… wait…” Leah says. “Abby knew? Why did you tell her before us?”

I _really_ wouldn’t want to be Simon right now.

“Because I don’t think I care as much about what she thinks of me as I do for the two of you.”

Wow, he’s good. Even I’m feeling emotional now. Which isn’t our thing. “Okay. Let’s go back to killing stuff.”

“Nick! Maybe Simon wants to talk about it!”

“So? Since when can’t we play and talk at the same time?”

She rolls her eyes at me, but Simon takes the controller. “I guess I should rephrase my question,” I say, unpausing the game. Si, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t.” But there is something in the way he said that. There might not be a boyfriend, but there is definitely a boy. I’ll let it slide for now because it probably was a lot for Simon to tell us that already, but there will _definitely_ be more snooping later.

 

 

**Garrett**

 

“I heard my parents on the phone, yesterday,” Bram says as we are studying in my room. Okay, he’s studying, I’m reading comics. “My mom was making dinner, so my dad was on speaker.”

A thousand jokes come running through my head, but I dismiss all of them. I can see on his face that it’s not a time for jokes. “What were they talking about?”

“Me.”

“Yeah, I got that. I don’t think your parents are ever in contact if that doesn’t have to do with you. But what were they talking about?”

“My dad was pretty much telling my mom that all my cousins were allowed to bring a plus one to my grandmother’s birthday. She’s turning seventy, so it’s going to be a bit family event. He… he told her he wasn’t sure if he should extend the invitation to me.”

“Why wouldn’t he ask you directly if you have a boyfriend?”

“I wondered the same thing. Until they kept talking and I realized that it’s not that he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings by asking me to bring a date if I don’t have one. He doesn’t want to upset my grandmother by me bringing a boy.”

“Your dad said that?” Bram nods. “But I thought your coming out went well?”

“I thought so too. I guess he is only fine with me being gay as long as it stays a theory. Or if the extended family never has to hear about it.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want you to come out to your family like that. I hate that I’m saying that, but it might be a shock to some of them. You said yourself that your dad’s family is conservative.”

“I don’t want to be ashamed of who I am. And I don’t want to have to step back into the closet whenever it’s convenient for other people.”

“Yeah, I get you. So what are you going to do?”

“Nothing. My mom told him to extend the invitation. She said he didn’t have a choice if he didn’t want me to feel like he’s ashamed of me, which he clearly is, by the way. And then she said that I wasn’t dating anyone, and that it wouldn’t change in a fortnight.”

“Maybe it will be your chance to come out to your grandmother,” I say. But I can see that Bram is still upset.

“I shouldn’t make this about me. It’s her big day. But it just stings, you know? That my dad wouldn’t put my happiness first, and that both my parents seem to think that I have no game.”

“It’s not what they meant.” I don’t know why I try to defend his parents when I have such a hard time understanding them. I sort of know where they are coming from, but I personally can’t wait for Bram to get a boyfriend. I want to see his eyes go dreamy and his face with a goofy smile. I don’t know, I guess… coming out, to me and his parents, has been hard for him, and I think that he deserves to find someone now. It doesn’t have to be the love of his life. Just someone that makes him feel good about himself, that makes him laugh, and that makes him let go. Even for a little while.

And some dick action. Bram definitely deserves some dick action.

“But you know, there is always option two,” I say.

“What’s option two?”

“Bring someone.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Stop being a fucking selfless martyr, stand up for yourself and bring a hot date to your grandma’s birthday.”

“You want me to find a boyfriend and get our relationship to meet-the-family-level within sixteen days?”

“No. Well… yes, I would want that for you. If you can do that, I’m all for it. But you could just bring someone. He doesn’t have to be your boyfriend. Your dad just has to think he is.”

“You want me to bring a fake date to a family event?”

“I don’t want you to do anything. I’m just helping you contemplate your options.”

“It’s not a real option. I’m not going to bring a stranger to my grandmother’s birthday.”

“Fine. I’ll go with you, then.”

Bram shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous. My parents know you’re straight.”

“Yeah, well, until a few weeks ago, they knew you were straight too.”

 

Bram didn’t take me up on my offer to go with him. He didn’t say no either. I think he’s thinking about it. I was partly joking, but I’ll totally go with him to show a giant middle finger to his entire extended family. I’ll even make out in front of them. Maybe. Maybe not. Definitely not. A peck on the lips. That I can do for my Brammy Boy. And hand-holding. And hand on the ass. Yep, I’ll definitely sell the gay shit. I’ll be the best fucking boyfriend.

That’s when Nick enters the changing room. We’re both always here earlier than the rest of the team and we start practice even before the coach arrives. I think it’s because we both have a shot at a sports scholarship, and we both need it to get to university. I mean… Bram is definitely going to get an academic scholarship, probably to an Ivy league, and the rest of the team, however dedicated, is not scholarship material.

Nick gives me a fist bump mechanically, and he seems in his thoughts when he opens his locker.

“Eisner, everything alright?”

“What? Yeah.” But then he slams his locker door without having taken anything in it and looks at me with inquisitive eyes. “Actually… do you remember your Halloween party?”

“I do…” I don’t like where this is going. I _perfectly_ remember that party, and I _know_ what he’s going to talk about. At some point, the two of us were on the swings, I already had had a few drinks, and I started rambling on how we spend that much time thinking that people are a certain way, and then they’re not, and we feel like idiots for not knowing, and putting unrealistic expectations on them. That was when I started suspecting that Bram might be gay, before he came out to me. I never told Nick more than that sentence, but that was already too much. I was just relieved when he seemed to have forgotten all about it.

I guess he didn’t.

“You know that thing you said about not realizing what people were or whatever?”

Shit. “Yes?”

“You were talking about someone specific, right? Someone from our lunch table, maybe?”

“You know?”

“I think I know.”

“What do you know?”

“It depends. What do _you_ know?”

“I can’t tell you if I don’t know what you know.”

This conversation is giving me a headache.

“I know that someone on our lunch table likes someone we wouldn’t assume they would,” Nick says. Nice way to beat around the bush, I’m half impressed.

“I know the same thing,” I confirm.

“How did you know.”

“Are you kidding? The looks are obvious.”

“Wait… you know who he likes?”

“Well… I never asked him directly, but I think so.”

“I don’t think he would tell you,” Nick says. “He wouldn’t tell me.”

Hum… what? “Why would he tell you before me?”

“Because he’s my best friend.”

What _the fuck_? “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing,” I say, suddenly uneasy.

Nick looks a bit panicked too. “We’re not? Aren’t we talking about someone from our lunch group being… attracted to boys?”

Nice language, I guess, but he could have said gay. It’s not like I wouldn’t guess he’s talking about a boy. “We are,” I confirm. And we both let out a relieved breath. “Still, why would Bram tell you first?”

Nick’s eyes grow wide and my heart stops. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. “Bram? I’m not talking about Bram…”

Nick is also clearly not talking about himself. He’s clearly undressing Abby with his eyes every lunchtime. So that leaves… “Wait… Spier is gay?”

We both get silent, taking in the bomb the other one dropped.

“Does this conversation make the two of us the worst friends in the entire world?” Nick asks.

“No, we’re good,” I say. “We’re second to the one who sleeps with their best friend’s wife.”

“Clearly that won’t be us,” Nick says, and we have this hysterical laughter for a solid minute.

“We can’t tell them what happened,” I say. “And we have to act surprised when they tell us.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to tell me.”

That’s when my brain goes somewhere really naught. Somewhere it shouldn’t.

“Nick… is Simon busy next weekend?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Bram needs a fake date to a family thing. So they… would stop asking him why he’s still single,” I half lie.

“Why should it be Simon? You do realize that for a fake date, he doesn’t really need to take a gay person, right?”

“No, I know that. I offered to go. But if he went with Spier, maybe something would… come out of it. Poor choice of words, but you know what I mean.”

“They’re not bonobos, Garrett. They’re not going to mate just because you put them in the same room.”

“It’s just pushing destiny. Because they’re clearly hot for each other already.”

“What?”

“Well… maybe Bram more than Simon, true, but still… look at them tomorrow at lunch. It sticks out a mile. Have you never noticed how different Bram is at lunch than he is with the team? Or the way the two of them always hold eye contact a bit longer than they do with anyone else?”

“No, I didn’t, actually.”

“Have a look. Once you’ve seen it, you can’t un-see it.”

“And you think that a fake date is going to bring them together?”

“Maybe not. But maybe all they need is a bit of alone time together.”

“With Bram’s grandma?”

“Look… I don’t know. Worst case scenario, they come out to one another and they have a gay friend to share stuff with. Things they can’t share with us.”

Nick nods. We hear the door open and he says. “I’ll come to your house after practice. We’ll talk details.”

“Sounds good.”

Bram appears. “Why aren’t you on the field already?” he asks.

“We’ve been busy idling,” I say.

“Well someone swallowed a thesaurus,” Nick says taking his clothes off to get changed.

I like how normal he’s acting. I had been worried that there would be awkwardness, but it’s not there. Bram is still Bram. Just how it should be.

 

 

**Bram**

 

This was a ridiculous idea. What was Garrett thinking? Why would he throw me under the bus like that? I can’t even function properly in front of Simon. I try to think. Have I ever had a conversation with him? Probably not. I definitely would remember having a conversation with Simon Spier.

How did he even convince me to do this? And even more mysterious, how did he convince Simon?

I am in front of the Spiers’ house. We are going to study together tonight, so his parents can meet me, and it’s a bit less awkward when Simon asks if he can come and spend the weekend with me.

Simon opens the door with a big happy smile on his face. My palms start sweating.

“Hi.”

“Hi. My parents aren’t home yet, but that’s probably for the best. I think we should… talk about the whole thing before… dragging our families into this.”

I nod. “Sounds good.”

We go to the living room and Simon has already books and snacks out. Oreos. That makes me think of Jacques and it makes me smile. Before realizing that here I am, about to introduce my real-life crush to my family as my fake boyfriend. Is that cheating on my online boyfriend? Has there ever been a precedent to that situation?

“So… Garrett came to see me the other day because apparently, you need someone to go with you to your grandmother’s birthday. Like… a fake date.”

“I do.” I don’t really. I don’t know why I’m letting Garrett drag me into this. It’s just… I do want them to have to see me for who I am. And I can’t deny that I also want to know what it would feel like. To introduce Simon Spier as my boyfriend.

“He said it couldn’t be someone from the team because your family already knows them, but… I guess the biggest question is… why a boy?”

Can I tell him? Should I come out to Simon Spier right now? It’s not like I have any other choice anyway. “Because my father thinks that I would never accept his plus one offer if it means coming out to my family.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. So… you’re gay.”

“I am.”

Simon looks at me and he doesn’t look surprised exactly, but he looks like this is a piece of information he doesn’t know what to do with.

“I didn’t know,” he says finally.

“That’s what happens when people are in the closet,” I comment. “But about that birthday thing… don’t worry if you don’t want to do it. It’s a weird idea from Garrett, I don’t have to stand up to them like that.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons. For one, you should definitely stand up to them. If there is one place you should be able to be yourself, it’s within your own family, right? Also, this moment should be with a fake date. You don’t want your real date to be stuck in this kind of drama when you do introduce him to your family. And finally, I think I would like someone by my side if I ever happen to have to stand up to my family after coming out.”

Did Simon Spier just say what I think he said? How much good did I do in a past life to collect enough karma points for Simon Spier to be gay?

Wow. Bram. Stop.

It doesn’t matter that Simon Spier is cute, funny, and that I have a tiny crush on him. He is not Jacques.

“So, your family doesn’t know?”

“No. Just most of the lunch table. I swear… Nick and his big mouth…” I can see that he is frustrated about that. I get it. I was annoyed at Garrett for letting something slip. But I know he didn’t mean to do it. I know he has my back. Always.

“Then don’t you think asking to go on a weekend with a boy will be… suspicious?”

“It might be the kick I need,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Long story short, I might be out to the world soon because of… something. I’d like to be able to come out to my parents on my own terms first.”

“Oh. That sounds… unpleasant. What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

Simon is about to say something but the front door opens. A voice, probably Simon’s mother, calls for him and he answers that he is in the living room. Then, the cutest ball of fur barges into the room, goes to greet Simon, sees me and is suddenly all over me, happily barking and licking my hands. I laugh. “Why, hello you.”

“That’s Bieber,” Simon says. “I think he likes you.” He has the softest smile on his face, and he looks at us fondly, like he’s genuinely enjoying seeing his dog bond so easily with me.

His parents enter the living room. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello Mrs Spier. Mr Spier. I’m Bram. Greenfeld.”

“Hello, Bram.”

“I’d shake your hand, but…” I point at Bieber.

Simon’s father laughs. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all dog-saliva-immunized in this family.” And he shakes my hand anyway.

“Mom, Dad, Bram is my English and algebra class,” Simon says. He’s also friends with Nick and Leah.

“Then why have you never mentioned him before?” His mother asks. Okay, this one stung a little bit.

“Wow, Mom. Really? Bram, you would never guess from her lack of tact, but my Mom is actually a child’s psychologist.” They are both smiling at that line, and I sort of love the dynamics of Simon’s family. It’s so different from what I’m used to. I love my mom. I really do. But I also would never tease her like that in public.

“I’m sorry. It’s not what I meant. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Bram.”

“Yeah, so, Bram is here, we are doing homework, so you know he’s serious, he’s in my group of friends, and you all trust Nick and Leah, and…”

“Just ask what you need to ask,” his father says.

“Can I go to his grandmother’s birthday next weekend?”

“You want to do what now?”

“Go to Mrs. Greenfeld’s seventieth birthday party.”

“Hum… Sure. If you want to.”

“It’s in Savannah.”

“Sorry?”

“His grandma lives in Savannah. It’s a weekend thing. I’d have to spend the night.”

“You want to go to Savannah for two days to go to the seventieth birthday party for the grandmother of a friend of yours we didn’t know existed until five minutes ago,” his mother sums up. And said like that, it sounds ridiculous.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I want. It’s a real thing. You can call Bram’s parents if you want.”

“We’ll do that,” his mother says. “But… other than that, if that’s how you want to spend your weekend, I guess I don’t see why not.”

But Simon’s father still looks confused. “What kind of friend goes to family birthdays?” he asks.

Simon looks at me, and I understand immediately the question in his eyes. I nod once. Simon looks back at his father and answers: “The boy kind.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Bram isn’t a friend. He’s my boyfriend.” And there we go. I am officially Simon Spier’s boyfriend. The worst thing is, I had this outburst of pride when he introduced me as his boyfriend. Even though I perfectly know it’s just pretending.

Then, because his parents still look startled – I guess we sort of ambushed them – Simon grabs my fingers on the table and my hand shifts on its own volition as we’re properly holding hands. It’s the first time I’ve ever held someone’s hand. It doesn’t feel like anything. It feels fake. Would holding Jacques’ hand feel different?

Simon’s parents quickly build their composure up again and invite me to dinner. I say yes. We have to sell the story now. At least until next weekend.

 

This is it. No turning back now. We already are in Savannah. Because of the drive, we won’t have time to swing by my dad’s first. We’ll bet slightly late already. I’m driving straight to my grandmother’s house.

When my dad asked me if I wanted to bring someone, I agreed. He sounded surprised, but I also think he sounded happy for me. Maybe I had read too much in his conversation with my mom. Maybe my grandmother deserves time to process me being gay before getting a Simon Spier shoved in her face.

“Bram, are you alright?”

Fucking Simon Spier. This last week, I’ve talked to Simon much more than I have emailed Jacques. I feel uneasy emailing Jacques whilst this thing is happening. One more day and things can go back to normal. Sort of. I don’t know. Simon and I have developed a friendship over this. Jacques used to be the only one I could talk to about these things, and now he’s not. Unless… sometimes, Simon really reminds me of Jacques, and I never know if it’s wishful thinking from me, or if the two are getting blurred in my mind because I don’t have an image to attach Jacques to.

If Simon is Jacques, I’m an awful person for not taking a risk and telling him I know who he is. If Simon isn’t Jacques, I’m an awful person for wanting to kiss him so badly when he showed up at my house this morning.

I take a deep breath. This feeling is gone, now. Mostly.

“I’m fine. I just… don’t like making rash decisions.”

“It can't be worse than my coming out. I can’t believe that’s how I told my parents. I can’t believe I cornered you like that.”

“Don’t worry about me. And your parents were sweet about it.”

“They were. My dad even waited until you were gone to make jokes.”

“What sort of jokes.”

“Dad jokes. You don’t want to know. They really liked you.”

“Parents usually do. I guess I’m the quiet nerdy kid that everyone is happy their child is friends with. The one that won’t get them in trouble. The kind that takes them to a grandma’s birthday party.”

“Okay, so first of all, until tomorrow, we’re not friends. We are boyfriends. And I’m pretty sure getting me to lie to your entire family is getting me in trouble somehow.”

I smile at him. “Oh yeah, we’re such a couple of bad boys.”

“I’ll make sure to mention that to my parents to let them down easy when I will have to tell them that I broke up with their perfect son-in-law. I’m not kidding, my dad referred to you as that in one of his jokes.”

“So you’ll be the one breaking up with me?”

“I don’t have to be. Actually, I think it will make more sense if you dump me. Who would break up with you?”

He didn’t say that question in a jokey or flirty way. He just said it as an evidence, and that startles me a bit. I can think of many more reasons to break up with me than to break up with Simon. If this was real, I definitely wouldn’t be the one ending it.

“Here we are,” I say as I park in front of the house.

“This house is _massive_ ,” Simon says.

“Yeah, my dad’s side of the family is very much upper to upper-middle-class white conservative. The kind that needed convincing to let my dad marry a black woman covered in student loan debts. Not that it ended well.”

“Well, they got you. I’d call that a win.” I look at Simon and, again, there isn’t a trace of joke in his eyes. If Jacques didn’t exist, I would thread my fingers through his right now. For real, not in a fake way like when our parents are watching.

We leave the car, and I ask him “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s probably going to be awkward and I don’t want you to do it just because Garrett has… a Garrett brain.”

Simon smiles. “Is it weird that the term ‘Garrett brain’ makes perfect sense to me? But don’t worry. I’ll be the perfect boyfriend, and endure all the awkwardness, paving the way for your next boyfriend.”

Yeah, I’m not sure Jacques will be too thrilled about that.

If he ever wants to be my boyfriend after that. Or altogether, really.

God, what am I doing?

I knock on the door and Simon takes my hand. It still feels fake, but I am still grateful for it. I think I need the silent support that goes with it.

My father opens the door and greets us with a smile. “Bram! How was the drive?”

“Fine.”

“And you must be Simon.”

“I am. Nice to meet you, Sir.” He shakes my dad’s hand, his left hand still in mine. My dad’s eyes fall on our intertwined fingers and he stares at them long enough to make it uncomfortable.

He snaps out of it and says: “We were waiting for you to get lunch. Should we go to the dining room?”

“Sure!”

 

We are seated in front of my dad and his wife. On our right are bot my aunts and their husbands, with my grandmother at the head of the table. On our left are my four cousins, two of them brought a plus one. The other end of the table is empty, as always. It used to be my grandfather’s seat before he died. No matter what, he always sat on the children’s side. He used to say that we had more interesting minds. Usually, I sat next to him. I think I was his favorite. I was probably closer to him than I am my own father. I wonder how he would have felt about meeting Simon.

I think he would have been happy for me. I think he would have loved drama nerd Simon. Not that it matters. Simon is _not_ my boyfriend.

My family is nice to Simon. They ask him a lot of questions. I don’t really know how I feel about that. It feels forced. They are not usually that interested in any of our love interests. Everything is asked. How we met, his interests outside of school, what feels like his entire family tree, and, because my family is my family, my grandmother asks: “And which side of Bram’s spiritual life do you fall on?”

“I’m sorry?” Simon asks, and I realize that I haven’t discussed much of what he should know about me as my boyfriend. Like an idiot, I figured that lunchtime stuff would be enough. Then again, I didn’t think my family would bring up religion the first time they met my boyfriend.

“Are you Jewish or Episcopalian?”

The weirdest shadow passes on Simon’s face. It’s tiny, and fleeting, but it was definitely there. Did anyone else see it? Is he panicking about an answer?

“Neither, Simon answers. I’m afraid I’m not very spiritual.”

“Well. Maybe Bram will change that for you.”

Simon looks at me with his big moon eyes and says “Maybe.” This time again, there is no mischief in them. As if he is actually contemplating the prospect.

I feel like kissing him again. So I change the subject. “Dad, I brought the English papers you asked.”

“Great. I’ll have a look tonight!”

“It’s an odd tradition you have,” one of my aunts comments. “I don’t spend time reading my children’s homework. Do your parents read your essays, Simon?”

Simon snorts. ‘No. But that’s completely different.”

“How so?”

“I would show my papers to my parents if they were Bram’s. I think it would make them proud. Don’t they make you proud, sir?”

My father frowns. “They do. But I’m sure your parents are proud of you regardless. I am proud of Bram for much more than his English papers.”

“I know my parents are proud of me. They make me feel like it. They tell me. But, and I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, I think that it’s easy to just… expect things. Bram is probably the smartest student in our year group. Everyone just expects him to excel all the time. I remember this one time our English teacher gave him back a piece of work with a disappointed look on his face. Because I’m nosy, and Bram I’m sorry about that, I know you wouldn’t have wanted me to, I looked at his grade. He scored ninety-five percent. That’s how much people expect of him. Enough to think that ninety-five percent is disappointing. And that’s just the academic side of things. Because he is not the nerdy kid with no friends that spends all of his free time doing homework, he is also the star of the soccer team. Nick told me that Bram is going to make captain next year. I mean… if he were my son, I would be proud of him. I just would have to make sure that I keep praising his achievements and not just take them for granted after a while.”

Simon is not looking at me. He hasn’t broken eye contact with my dad this entire time. He was not talking to me. And yet, his speech hits me in the heart like a declaration of love. I have tried really hard not to think about what Simon Spier was thinking of me. Maybe I should have. It’s beautiful.

My change of subject definitely didn’t help with the wanting to kiss him thing.

 

After lunch, after the cake, my cousins and I are in the kitchen doing the dishes. It’s tradition.

“So a boyfriend, huh?” Sophie asks. “Like… you kiss and stuff?”

We have had this kind of question all day, but it feels different coming from someone our age. It’s much more annoying. And way more direct too. I know that any answer would be a lie, but I really want to tell her that two boys kissing is fine. That it _cannot_ be worse than the way she licks her boyfriend’s face as soon as the adults leave the room.

“Yeah,” Simon says drying a plate. “And sometimes I touch his dick, too.” Oh, God. Again, I could kiss him right now. I just love how he handles everyone differently. I just love how bold he is. I just love him.

Wait. What. STOP. I _do not_. It’s just been an emotional day. Let’s take a deep breath and focus on Jacques. Jacques that I have known for months, who is not just a cute guy I started having conversations with a few days ago.

But it’s hard with Simon’s hand in mine.

How long have we been holding hands? I don’t remember taking it again. How did that become so familiar so quickly?

 

When it’s almost time to leave, I go find my grandmother to wish her a happy birthday and say goodbye. I think she asked people to leave us alone for a moment because all the adults seem to have disappeared with my cousins.

“Bram! Simon! Thank you both for coming.”

“Of course,” I say. “Happy birthday.”

“Simon, did you have a nice time.”

“I actually did. Thank you for having me.”

“I am sorry,” she says, “if you felt like we were interrogating you. But you can imagine how this is different from any of my other grandchildren bringing someone.”

“Yes, it’s probably a new situation,” Simon agrees.

“Not just that.  My other grandchildren bring boyfriends and girlfriends like they would bring new pairs of shoes. But this… is different. Bringing a same-sex partner in this house is very similar to me bringing a boy home over fifty years ago. Or to Bram’s father telling me that he chose a woman from a different background and religion. You don’t do it if you’re not entirely sure about the person.”

My stomach burns uncomfortably. I think it’s shame. My grandmother looks at me and it’s really hard to hold eye contact. “Is he good to you?”

At least I can answer that without lying. “Very.”

“Then I’m happy for you. If you can find someone that is good to you, and who looks at you the way you two look at each other, you should hold on to that.”

The way we look at each other? What is she talking about?

 

 

**Simon**

 

Today was a lot. I don’t mean the birthday itself. Bram’s family wasn’t that bad. It just seemed that sometimes he has a hard time finding his place amongst them. Then again, it’s quiet Bram from the lunch table. I don’t think he’s that comfortable with large groups of people altogether.

What was a lot though, is that Bram is Blue. I mean… he has to be, right?

The idea first blossomed in my mind when I learned he was gay. Cute gay grammatical Blue could be cute gay grammatical Bram. It made some sense. But I stopped myself from going there because I can’t just use Simon logic all the time. Before that, I would have bet my life that Blue was Cal.

But now… Bram and Blue are half-Jewish, half-Episcopalian with a pregnant stepmother. Coincidences like that don’t exist, do they?

I thought about not saying anything. Go through the weekend and email Blue. Find out for sure like that. But now I can’t. Because now, I am standing in Bram’s bedroom, in my pajamas, and he is in his, finishing to make his bed.

He is not exactly facing me, but I know he saw me. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

That is absolutely not what I’m worried about.

He is so beautiful. How did I never notice that before?

I need to tell him I know it’s him. But what if I’m wrong? Or worse, what if I’m right and that scares him away? My body starts moving before my brain can make a decision. I walk to Bram and I don’t stop until I am right next to him. I wrap my forefinger around his little finger and he shifts to face me.

“Simon?”

“It’s you, isn’t it? Please tell me it’s you.”

Bram catches a breath and then asks in a half-voice: “Jacques?”

Oh, thank God. It’s him. He is so perfect. Better than I even hoped for.

I close my eyes and let my forehead rest on his. He properly threads his fingers through mine, and I feel like I can breathe again. He wants this too.

We’ve been holding hands all day, but that feels different. Our fingers are not still. They caress, grab, scratch, play, and every movement wakes up the colony of butterflies that apparently lives in my organs.

I put my other hand on his cheek, eyes still closed. I rub my thumb against his skin. It’s not entirely smooth. There is a bit of stubble, and I sort of love it. Then I feel a single tear roll from his eye, down on his cheek, until getting lost between my fingers. I’m feeling equally overwhelmed.

I really, _really_ want to kiss him. But I need another minute to take it all in.

Bram’s free hand lands on the nape of my neck and my entire body shivers.

Just as I think that kissing can’t possibly be better than all those things I’m currently feeling, his lips brush mine, and HOLY SHIT. My lips brush his back. Soon enough, we are kissing, discovering a rhythm I didn’t even know existed.

It is _nothing_ like kissing girls. I am kissing a boy. I am kissing _the_ boy. It’s Bram. It’s Blue. It’s…

Oh. The southern part of my body is waking up, and boners are not romantic. I need to pull back before he notices. I break the kiss and we just stand there, fingers still intertwined, hands still on cheek and neck, and we look into each other’s eyes, catching our breaths. We are both smiling.

“Those _eyes_ ,” Bram whispers, and I smile even wider because I was thinking the same thing.

“So… should you maybe not sleep on the floor?” I ask and Bram laughs, pulling me in for another kiss. This time, it is a deeper, more passionate kiss. This time, I don’t worry about boners. Because I’m not the only one to be carried away by the moment.

 

We are lying in Bram’s bed. I am on my back and Bram is curled up against me, head on my shoulder. It’s late. We should be sleeping. We have a long drive tomorrow. But we can’t seem to stop talking. About today, about emails, about stupid Nick and stupid Garrett and they superbly stupid idea, but also about things. We talk about other things. Things we would have emailed to each other. Things we wouldn’t have put in an email too.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

“You know, you made quite an impression on my father,” Bram says. “After dinner, when I was showing him my essays, he told me that he wasn’t taking me, or anything I do for granted. He told me that he is always proud of me. Even when all I do is, and I quote, going through a complicated life with unseen dignity.”

I smile. I am so happy for him. “Well maybe parents like me too.”

“The good thing, I guess, is that I won’t have to break any parents’ hearts by breaking up with you,” Bram jokes after a while.

I hold him a bit tighter. “Are you sure you’re ready for that? Being boyfriends? We’re not even out at school.”

“We don’t need to be obvious at school,” Bram says. “But this… you and me… it feels too good to let go. Even for a short while. I’m not even sure I could. Plus… we’re out to our friends and families. Everyone that matters, really.”

“Bram… there is something I need to tell you.” I can feel him move his body to face me, but I can’t look at him. It might be the moment I lose Blue. “I did something stupid, and it sort of blew out of proportions. I should have told you when it happened, but I didn’t know how.” And I tell him the whole Martin thing. How he has a copy of our early emails, how he is threatening to out me if I don’t help him with Abby, how I’m trying not to help him while protecting Blue. How I feel like I’m keeping so many secrets that I could burst. He is really quiet during the entire thing.

When I am done, I finally look at him and his face is expressionless. My heart beats louder than ever. I just want him to say something. Anything. Even if it’s that he can’t forgive me. Just end the silent torture.

“Bram?”

“That’s Martin…”

“Addison.”

“Right. The one from your play.”

“Yes.”

Bram nods. “Okay. Well, let’s come out, then.”

“What?”

“If we’re both out, and together, he has nothing on you, right?”

“I guess not. He could still leak the emails.”

“He won’t,” Bram says with an assurance that surprises me. “But even if he does… let him… we’ll have to face worse than that, I’m sure. Let’s just make sure we’re sufficiently happy to not let that bother us.”

God, Bram… Have I dreamt him into being?

“So you’re fine with it?”

“With you being blackmailed? I am absolutely _not_ fine with that. But I don’t blame you. Never you.”

The weight I have been carrying with me since Martin started to blackmail me lifts from my chest. I feel so free. I could cry. Instead, I push Bram on his back and get half on top of him for a furious make-out session.

 

When we fall asleep, we are barely touching. But we are facing each other, hands linked between our pillows. I think our hands knew before we did.

 

 

**Leah**

 

Bram and Simon. I really didn’t see that one coming. And they look _adorable_ together. I couldn’t have predicted it, but now that it is, I think it makes sense.

Not that I would ever tell them that. I’ll keep fake barf when they kiss when we hang out, or when they say something cheesy at lunch. Even though I wish they will never change.

They’re a couple and yet they’re far less annoying than Nick and Abby who are still in their will they / won’t they phase. That may be because Simon and Bram are not really out at school, whereas Nick and Abby are sickening all over the lunch table. Still. Even without the being gay in a heteronormative world, I’m sure Spier and Greenfeld would have more manners.

I look at my phone. Simon, who’s my ride today, should finish his play practice in fifteen minutes. I’ll go wait for him by the auditorium.

I leave the library and see Bram.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi, Leah.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s my school too, you know?” he answers with an easy smile.

“I do know. But it’s a bit late.”

“I was at soccer practice. It just finished, and I had a couple of books to bring back.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. Bram the bookworm.” He smiles again, and I never noticed before how smiley he is. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe it’s a Simon side effect. Or maybe I just didn’t know Bram. “So I’m going to go meet your boyfriend. Wanna join?”

“Sure.”

I’ve been spending more time with Bram the last couple of weeks, and so far, I really like what I’m discovering. Even Garrett is growing on me. In a Bieber kind of way.

As we reach the auditorium, we see Martin Addison coming back from the bathroom. There is a weird twitch on Bram’s face. I’m about to ask him about it, but he excuses himself and walks to Martin. I don’t follow Bram, but I don’t leave either. Something tells me it’s going to be entertaining.

“Addison.”

“Hi, Greenfeld. Good game last week!”

“Yeah, thanks.” But Bram’s tone doesn’t match what he’s saying. He manages to stand between Martin and the auditorium door and, even from here, he looks intimidating. He is a jock after all.

“What’s up?” Martin asks, his voice shaking slightly. He looks at me nervously, but I just shrug. I really have no idea what’s happening.

“It’s me.”

“It’s you… what?”

“The other side of those emails you stole.”

Martin looks properly terrified now. What are they talking about?

“Look… Greenfeld… Bram… I don’t have them anymore. I deleted them a long time ago.”

“Then why is Simon under the impression that you are still blackmailing him? The both of us, really.”

“No… it’s not like that. It’s not blackmail, it’s… an exchange of favors.”

“An exchange of favors? As in Simon has to do everything you say and in exchange, you don’t share a piece of information that’s none of your business anyway?”

“No, I… you… it’s not…” Martin takes a step back and Bram takes a step forward.

“Stop that. I don’t have time for your babbling or your lame excuses. Instead, just listen. You are going to back off from Abby. If she even considers spending twenty seconds alone with you, I’ll tell her all about the dirtbag you really are. You are going to back off from me, or I’ll report you for homophobic bullying. And more importantly, you are going to back off Simon. Because I’m really not above beating the shit out of you. Are we clear?”

Martin swallows so hard that I can hear it from here. He nods quickly.

“Great. Good chat. Have a good day, Martin. I look forward to never hearing from or about you again.”

And Bram is walking back to me. He doesn’t look back.

“Shit, Greenfeld, who knew you were such a badass?”

He half-smiles, but he looks a bit embarrassed. “Can we not tell Simon about this?”

“Why not? I’m sure he’ll find this hot.”

“I’ll just… tell him that I talked to Martin. Okay?”

“Sure. Whatever you want. But do you want to tell me what that was all about? We still have ten minutes to kill.”

“I can… tell you some of it.”

“Can’t wait.”

We go sit down on a bench in front of the school. I’m not sure what he’s about to tell me, but I’m pretty sure that him sharing that with me makes us friends. Not lunch buddies, actual friends.

I think I’d like that.

I think if he asks me questions about me, I’ll answer them. There is something about Bram that make him look trustworthy.

I think Simon chose well.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I remember promising someone 20 chapters. I think my job here is done.


	21. What if Bram couldn't stand Simon being outed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon Spier has been outed. It's all over the school's Tumblr.  
> Bram needs to reach him before he goes to his father for the holidays. Even if that means telling him he's Blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for those of you who panicked a little bit after my previous note. But the series is very much still alive. See, chapter 21 ;)
> 
> For this one, let's go back to the basics, let's get closer to the book and just change one detail (sort of).

**Simon**

 

Alice just left my bedroom, and I am lying on my bed, looking at the ceiling. I’m pretty sure it should have been a happy time. Or at least a freeing one. It wasn’t. It felt forced and painful, and even now that it’s done, I don’t feel ready to be out to my family. For my dad to be awkward around me, for my mother to overanalyze my every move, for Alice to get overprotective as if something changed, when I’m just who I already was yesterday, and for Nora to look like she’s stuck in the middle of it.

Did Blue feel that empty when he came out to his family?

Oh, God, Blue… Did he see the post? Not only would that be mortifying – Simon would let the rest of the world read it every day If that means Blue never has to – but there is also the word ‘blue’ used in disgusting ways by Martin. It’s definitely going to scare Blue away. And if it doesn’t, it’s either going to make him mad at me, or disgust him.

What would I do then? Beg? Tell him it’s not my fault? It is, though. If I had logged out properly, if I hadn’t checked that email on a school computer, Martin wouldn’t have been able to read them. If I had told Blue from the beginning, he wouldn’t have been caught off guard. I am an idiot.

And if Blue hasn’t seen it yet, it’s only a matter of time. People will share it. People will talk. I always receive stuff on people I don’t even know. The post is going to be taken down, but I am sure that some people have already screenshot it.

Why wasn’t I born fifty years ago? Okay… maybe being gay back then would have been the worst. In fifty years, then? Surely in thirty years being gay won’t be such a big deal. It has to be, right?

It’s getting really dark. If I extend my arm, I can switch on the light. I can’t even bring myself to do that. I just lay there in the dark, feeling sorry for myself. It feels like it’s either that or full on panicking.

Is it the moment I lose everything?

This is by far my worst Christmas. Actually, it might be the first Christmas I can attach to a bad memory.

I close my eyes. Maybe if I fall asleep, I can wake up and all of it will have been a dream. Or maybe I can sleep until after the holidays. Not that I am in a rush to go back to school. Maybe I can sleep until senior year. Or until university. Skip SATS, university applications, high school bullying and move on straight to my fresh start.

Sleep until prince charming’s kiss. Would that be Blue?

 

 

**Bram**

 

I finally zip my travel bag. I only leave in two days, but I like to be ready.

It’s the same routine every year since the divorce. Hotel Hanukkah with my dad, Thanksgiving and Christmas with my mom, New Year with my dad again. Like a wheel of holidays, always spinning the same way.

Christmas and Hanukkah make sense. The other two, however, feel like it might be something that was decided in court. Have they flicked a coin, or has someone decided that it was more sensible, school-wise, to divide it that way?

My phone rings. Lately, I have been feeling cheeky and I changed my ringtone to Waltz #2. I sort of hope that I will get a call at some point, at lunch or after school, and that Simon Spier will be there. I would then be able to tell, from his reaction or lack of, if he really is Jacques or if I have been making this up in my head.

Luck hasn’t struck before the holidays, and I want to believe in fate enough to not stage that call. I still believe that things will fall into place when the time is right. If I have to make a bold move, it won’t be staging something fake and ridiculous. I would email him my number. I will. Soon. This would be a baby step that we could turn into a massive one.

Plus, Simon might not be Jacques, and if I have to do something bold, it has to be for Jacques. Not to maybe-Jacques.

But back to my ringing phone. It’s a facetime call from Garrett. I accept the call, but I leave the phone on my desk.

“Merry Christmas, Greenfeld. Nice ceiling.”

“Thank you. Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Not to complain, but I’d rather see your pretty face rather than you quite plain ceiling.”

I sort of put the phone up, leaning against my science books, and I walk away from the desk again. “Better?”

“Better.”

Garrett is in his bed, shirtless. He is probably just off the shower after a sport session. He’s always Facetimed me like that, and I could have cried when he called me the day after I came out to him, with his shirt off. Like nothing changed. Like it didn’t cross his mind that because I was gay I would be checking him out. Which I am not.

I get back to my bookshelves.

“What are you doing?”

“Having a look at the books on the senior year’s list. I think I’ll take one with me at my dad’s and get a head start on next year’s curriculum.”

“Nerd.”

“I’ll take notes.”

“That you will share, right?”

“That I will share.”

“You are the best kind of nerds.”

“Thanks. I guess. Why are you even calling me? You do realize that it’s a day for family, right?”

“I do. I spent time with my parents, we politely exchanged gifts, and now I’m calling my brother.”

I almost protest, but I don’t. I don’t mind if he is saying it as a joke, but I don’t mind if he’s serious either. “Right. What are you calling me about? I know it’s not to exchange seasonal greetings.”

“No, true… hum…” Garrett’s voice sounds different. Embarrassed, or worried somehow. When I look at the screen, he doesn’t look smooth, nor amused. He looks like he’s about to say something he doesn’t really want to say. I sit at my desk and take the phone.

“Garrett?”

“Okay, you know I usually don’t pay attention to gossip, right?” My organs turn to ice. Is it something about me? “But someone sent me a link to Creeksecret, and I was bored, so I clicked the link. I thought it was another cheesy poem from Alicia Smith, you know? They are hilariously bad…”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t. It’s… okay, I don’t know if you want to see it, and I would not share that in a million years, but… even if you deny it, I know you have a crush on him, and…” Garrett doesn’t finish his sentence, but I don’t know if I would have heard it anyway. I am feeling completely empty. Simon. He means Simon. Something happened to Simon. Jacques?

“Send it.”

 

 

**Simon**

 

It’s the day after Christmas and, as per tradition, we all went out for lunch. Tonight will be leftovers. No cooking on the 26th. It’s the rule.

I know I have been moody all lunch, and I could see that my family was trying. But maybe that’s it. They shouldn’t try, because they should just treat me the way they always do. I didn’t become breakable because I came out. My dad didn’t make any joke since Christmas. I think I would rather hear him make a gay joke.

“Who’s that?” Alice asks, and I look out of the car window. Under our porch, sitting on the bench, is Bram Greenfeld. What the hell is he doing there?

“It’s a friend from school,” I answer. When he sees the car park, Bram stands up. His cheeks are pink from the cold and he has his hands deep in his sports jacket. He looks ridiculously adorable.

He walks towards us and introduces himself to my parents. Then he asks me if we can have a word for a minute. I agree and the rest of my family gets inside, not without giving me knowing looks, which really annoys me. Just because a boy visits me, it doesn’t mean we like each other. I don’t think Bram noticed anything, but I still feel awkward.

Bram keeps shifting his weight from leg to leg, and he looks nervous. After a couple of minutes, I decide to start the conversation he apparently doesn’t know how to have.

“So… Do you need me for something?”

“What? Why would I need you?”

“I don’t know. We don’t really hang out, so I’m just wondering why you’re here.”

“I saw the post.” If the floor opened up right now, it would still be better news than this. I am mortified. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my entire life. “Sorry, I’m not trying to ambush you or anything, but Garrett sent me the link, and…” So Laughlin knows too. And he is spreading it. I mean… I know we aren’t exactly friends, but I guess part of me was still expecting better from him. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I answer, almost mechanically. Why is he here?

Then I get it. There is only one reason Bram Greenfeld would suddenly start talking to me after being outed. “So… you and Garrett have been talking about it?”

“A bit,” Bram admits.

“And I guess you want to sort it before going back to school.”

He frowns. “I’m not sure that ‘sort it’ would be the term I'd use.”

“Don’t worry about it. And you can tell Garrett he doesn’t need to worry about it either.”

He looks confused. “Worry about what?” I don’t have time for this. I have spent two days feeling upset, angry and afraid. I am not going to let him beat around the bush. Standing up for myself will be good practice for when I have to stand up against bullies.

“I get it,” I say. “It’s not good for a jock to be hanging out with the gay kid.”

“What? Simon, that’s not… Is that what you think of me?”

“I don’t think anything of you. I don’t know you. I guess I should have known you would be awkward about it, I just didn’t think it would bother you enough to come all the way here, though.” Bram’s face does something odd, and I think he is biting the inside of his cheeks. “It’s fine, Bram. We’re not friends. We’re not even friendly. We’re just… civil to each other. No one will blame you if you want to sit at another lunch table. I’ll even change table myself if it makes things easier for you.”

Bram nods. He looks bitter. “Sure. Whatever works for you,” he says. And he leaves.

I shouldn’t be this upset. As I said, we are barely cordial to one another. But Garrett is fun, and bubbly. Bram is quiet and sweet. In the midst of everything, I haven’t really thought about the two of them, but I guess deep down I hoped they would be fine with it? Maybe not cool and supportive, but at least indifferent.

I guess I was wrong.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 26 at 5.12 PM

SUBJECT: Oh holy nightmare

 

Blue,

I officially had the most epically weird and awful Christmas ever, and most of it I can’t even tell you about. So, yeah. Basically, due to certain mysterious circumstances, I’m now out to my entire family, and most of the whole freaking universe. It turns out that the world who already figured it out has not been the most supportive.

So, it’s your turn to distract me, okay? Give me updates on about little Foetus or the horrifying sexcapades of your parents, or talk about how you think I’m cute. And talk about how you ate too much turkey and now you feel nauseated. Did you know you’re the only person I’ve ever met who uses the word “nauseated” instead of “nauseous”? I finally Googled it, and of course, you’re right. Of course.

Anyway, I know you’re off to Savannah tomorrow, but I hope to God your Dad has Internet, because I don’t think my heart can handle waiting a full week for an email from you. You should give me your number so I can text you. I promise I’m still relatively grammatical over text.

I hope your family left you alone yesterday. It sounded like you needed that. Maybe next year we can sneak away and spend Christmas together somewhere far away, where our families can’t find us.

Love,

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 26 at 10.47 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Oh holy nightmare

 

Jacques,

I think I know about the mysterious circumstances you are referring to. I am sorry. I know it isn’t what you wanted. It isn’t what anybody would want, really. I wish I could fix it somehow.

No updates on Little Foetus, but suffice it to say that I’m more than a little nauseated now that I’ve had the pleasure of reading the word “sexcapades” in reference to my parents.

I don’t know about the text thing. I think… I think this should stay as it is. An email thing. I don’t think the real you and the real me could connect like that, you know? I don’t think there is a next step for us. Trust me on this one.

My dad has the Internet, but I don’t think we should email this week. You sound mad at the world, and I understand that. I really do. But maybe the world isn’t as dark as you picture it to be. Give the world a chance. Don’t use this week as an opportunity to close yourself off in what seems safe and familiar. You’ve been shoved into the world. I think you need to find a way to face it or it will eat you up when we have to get back to school.

Plus, I think I need time too. To process all of this.

Talk to you in January. Online if not for real.

Blue.

 

 

Out of everything, Blue’s email is what hurts more. Every single paragraph it a knife in my heart.

He read the post. He read the freaking post with all its disgustingness and subtext.

He answered all the things I asked him too but the part about me being cute. Blue, who is the email equivalent of the best listener and who always knows what I need. He didn’t miss it by accident. He refused me it on purpose. If he read the post, he knows who I am. Maybe he found Jacques cute, but not Simon. What is even worse, is that the rest of the paragraph definitely looked like the usual him. It’s Blue. Blue just doesn’t like me.

He refused to give me his number. I can understand that. But I can’t understand the line about us not connecting in real life. Why not? What does he know that I don’t? Who is he? Have I done something horrible to him? Or have we just talked in school and it was boring? Surely, it would be different now. He didn’t even say maybe, or later. He said no.

The no email for a week… it’s a week, I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but I need him now. I know I will have to face the world, but why do I have to do this without him? And yeah, I know I’m mad at the world, but… First Martin. Then Bram. And by extension Garrett. I considered all of them sort of friends not so long ago. Funny Martin from drama. Cute Bram from lunch. Awesome Garrett from the soccer team. Turns out they’re all jerks. Fuck all of them.

And he needs time. I don’t know what that means, but it terrifies me. Is that it? Will Blue come back saying ‘I thought about it, and we’re done’?

Then he nailed the coffin, reminding me that I would have to wait a week to talk to him, but that it wouldn’t be for real.

And then his name. Just his name. I could have handled the rest of the email if only that one word was still there. But it’s gone. I guess he could sign ‘love’ to Jacques but not Simon.

 

That’s when it’s too much. I can’t hold the tears anymore.

 

 

**Bram**

 

All week I’ve been thinking about it. Every time, it makes me want to scream. I might actually have, one or twice, biting a pillow to muffle the sound.

I went to Simon’s to be there for him and tell him that I’m Blue. I did neither. He was upset and he just snapped at me. And my brain understood that. He was angry, and what he said sort of made sense. I still could have told him the truth. Been there for him. I didn’t. Because my heart didn’t understand. It just broke. Right then and there. I heard it so loudly that I don’t know how Simon didn’t.

And then his email… Simon just being his usual online self, as I was still trying to pick up all the pieces of my heart, and I just couldn’t handle it. I guess my mind and my heart were still fighting, because my email back to him was the oddest mix of supportive Blue, and the biggest jackass the world has ever seen.

Simon didn’t reply. I know why: I asked him not to. But part of me would have liked for him to fight back a little. To make me face him, tell me I’m a jerk for leaving him at a time like this, call me a hypocrite for suddenly not calling him cute, ask me why I didn’t sign with ‘love’… just _something_ to which I could justifiably have answered: “It’s me, I’m Bram, today didn’t go well, but maybe it was just poor timing, please prove me wrong and tell me we can work”.

But he didn’t, and I didn’t, and now… It’s not like we can go back anymore. He probably hates me, and I can’t shake the feeling I had when he said those things to me. When I realized how Simon Spiers pictures Bram Greenfeld. That was ‘freaking’ ugly and that fucking hurt.

I can’t decide which one of us was the biggest jerk.

Probably me, because I had more information.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I can’t get Blue’s email out of my head. I have drafted what feels like a thousand emails, pretty much begging him to like me back with different levels of smoothness. But he needs time, and our relationship is all about: giving the other what he needs and being a safe space.

Still. There has been a shift in his email that can’t just come from him figuring out who I am. Something else must have happened, right?

And that thing with Bram. The most I think about it, the most I can’t believe that Bram Greenfeld would have come to my house to talk me into not hanging out with them in school. I remember his hurt face, and I have to face the fact that I’m a terrible human being. I need to apologize before going back to school.

 

I asked Nick for his address, and he told me that Bram was at his dad’s for the holidays. I asked for his dad’s address, and Nicked laughed, saying that it was in Savannah.

Ever since, I can’t un-see the coincidence. Bram and Blue in Savannah until the last day of the holidays. Blue freaking out after I snapped at Bram. It’s probably just Simon logic, like when I thought Blue was Cal, but… the idea just doesn’t leave my brain.

 

Let’s ignore the fact that if it’s true, I probably screwed everything up forever, and let’s indulge a minute in the prospect that Bram would be Blue.

Did I really have my perfect online boyfriend eating shitty school food in front of me _every freaking day_? I never even pictured him as a possibility, but… it’s not like I’m disappointed or anything. It would actually be a relief. Bram is cute, smart, has expressive eyes, and I know I could be attracted to him. It was one of my fears. Meeting Blue, and realizing that there was no spark. I feel like there would definitely be a spark with Bram.

I try to remember everything I can about a boy I haven’t particularly paid attention to before, and it dawns on me that I might have paid more attention than I thought. For instance, I seem to know of by heart the space on Bram’s back between his T-shirt and his hair. Or the freckles on his nose, barely visible. The way he looks at his perfect English grades and always looks satisfied, but not happy, or even proud. How he always let Garrett eat his fries, but Garrett always let him eat his cookies.

I’m not sure I noticed that much about Anna and I dated her.

Suddenly, I wish this isn’t Simon logic. I wish it’s true. I wish Bram is Blue. And I wish I can still save whatever we had, as well as what we could have.

 

 

**Bram**

 

It was a long drive, after a long week. I’m tired and I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. Not just because I want to rest, it’s also… the whole Simon thing that I still haven’t sorted out in my head. Maybe a hot shower and a good night of sleep will help me.

It’s not as if the previous ones did.

I park the car, get my bag and get out. Then I freeze. Sitting on the step in from of my front door is Simon Spier; who stands up the second he sees me.

We stare for a moment. He looks nervous. Maybe more than I was when I went to his house.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I reply, and my voice comes out more defensive than I would like.

“Bram, I… I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not, though. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I shouldn’t have assumed that you… I was mad about the post, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It was wrong.”

I nod, but I don’t speak. I’m tired, and I’m afraid that if I speak I’ll start crying. So Simon continues. “I don’t know why you came, but I sort of hope that… maybe… it’s because it’s you?” I still can’t answer, but I nod again. We just look at each other, and it feels like we understand each other perfectly. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you, and I pushed you away, and that it was a massive step for you and I ruined it. But I will make it up to you, Bram. I will endure whatever storm is happening at school during the day, I will email you in the evening and it will be up to you if you reply or not, and I will clear up all my Saturdays in case you want to hang out one day. Whenever you’re ready. I know you’re not out yet. I know you might not want us to become a thing. It’s fine. I’m just offering to take our friendship to the next step. If and when you want.”

I shouldn’t be silent right now. I should say something. I should tell him that I do want to take the next step, maybe even not as friends. But the words just don’t come out, and I stay standing there like an idiot.

“Anyway… I’m sorry. And I want you to know that it’s just because I was mad at… someone else. That’s not what I think of you. Or Garrett. And I wish I listened to you. I’m sure it would have been beautiful, and exactly what I needed, because you always know what to say, and…” Simon is getting emotional too. Almost desperate, even. “I’m gonna go. But I’ll email you. Tomorrow night. Like before. You decide what to do with it.”

When Simon leaves, my head is more confused than ever. But my heart doesn’t hurt anymore.

 

 

**Simon**

 

Bram was very quiet yesterday. I don’t know how to interpret that. So I try not to. I’ll email him tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after that. Every day until he asks me not to.

 

Leah and Abby act like my guard dogs around school, but it’s not enough to prevent that football player to try to kiss me by my locker. Everyone laughs. He shouldn’t try to turn who I am as a joke, and people shouldn’t find it funny. I’m sure reactions would be very different if he thought he could do that to a girl just because she’s straight.

After that, I’m jumpy and paranoid all day. Even when Nick or the girls are with me.

 

When I get to the cafeteria, I can see Bram and Garrett sitting at our lunch table. It’s a good sign, right. It has to be. Bram wouldn’t be there if he were still pissed at me. Unless he expects me to sit somewhere else.

I’ll just go and try to read his body language. I don’t know what to expect. I just know that if he smiles at me, it’s a win.

And Garrett… Has Bram told him what I said? I hope not, but I should apologize to him anyway. I wasn’t fair on him and he doesn’t deserve it.

I’m lost in my thoughts, and I’m not paying much attention. Which is probably why I bump into this guy. I’m not carrying food, but he was. It’s all on the floor now. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” I say. I look at him. He’s a senior, and he’s on the football team too. My stomach clenches.

“Look where you’re going, drama kid.”

“Sorry, I…”

“You’re the one from the Tumblr, right?” The cafeteria gets quiet, and I just freeze. My brain can’t decide between fight or flight – not that I could literally fight him – so it just does nothing instead. “Of course you are. What were you trying to do? Get some action?” My heart is beating so hard it almost hurts. I should do something. Say something. Walk away. End this before my friends arrive. I can’t let them fight this battle for me. “I don’t know how I didn’t know before,” he tells his friends. “He’s in drama club and he looks fragile. Not like he could be on a sports team, you know?”

His friends laugh, and I don’t think I ever felt this lonely or humiliated. And Bram saw everything. If he was considering being out, he sure as hell isn’t anymore. I need this moment to end. I need a miracle.

 

 

**Bram**

 

Simon walks in the cafeteria. When he sees me, he looks both relieved and unsure. I’ll say something at lunch. Something only him and I can understand but which will mean ‘I forgive you’. I don’t know what yet. I’ll find something. I have forty minutes to find something.

Then the incident happens.

Getting your meal spilled all over the floor is annoying, but it’s not the end of the world. There is no need to be such a jerk about it. Even for Jake.

Then Jake mentions the Tumblr and my entire body tenses. I can feel Garrett stiffen next to me too. We start staring, like everyone. Why isn’t Simon saying something or walking away? Why is he just taking it?

Jake asks Simon if he was looking for some action, and I start wondering if I should do something. Garrett seems to be wondering the same thing.

Finally, Jake says that He should have known that Simon is gay because he is not in a sports team. That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, for obvious reasons. That’s also when something breaks inside of me, like a dam, and my emotions start overflowing.

I feel like I don’t give a shit anymore.

I stand up, and I start walking towards the scene. When I get there, Jake looks at me and smiles, like I’m his peer, like being in the soccer team makes me worthy of his friendliness. “What’s up, Greenfeld?”

I ignore him. Instead, I take Simon’s hand, pull him in gently. His eyebrows jerk up in surprise, but he lets me pull him close, and that’s all the signs I need. I put my other hand on his face, and my lips on his.

And he kisses me back, right there in the middle of the cafeteria.

 

It was a terrible idea, but it feels so great, for so many different reasons.

And whatever comes next, we’ll face together.

Finally.

 

 


	22. What if they met in college?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College is the fresh start that Bram needed. It is a great opportunity to leave high school behind and reinvent himself. Especially when his new roommate gets him to meet new people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so we are going to raise the rating for this one. Not so much because of what happens, but because of the themes explored.  
> Some parts might be upsetting to some people, so you might want to skip this one.
> 
> Also, this is a story, and I perfectly understand that things are more complicated in real life. I just wanted to put a 'happy ending' to this chapter.

This is it. College. It felt like it would never be there. But I finally have my fresh start, and I can forget all about the hell that was high school.

First thing first: let’s find my dorm. Even with the campus map, everything seems too big, too new, too impressive. It almost feels like this new world could swallow me whole. I guess I don’t mind. It reassures me, even. I am looking forward to being the anonymous guy that no one really pays attention to, that nobody notices. I could thrive as that guy.

I enter my room. This is going to be my world, at least for the upcoming year. My side is entirely empty, but the other side of the room isn’t. My roommate is already unpacked and settled, apparently. From the posters, I can see that he is a soccer guy, he likes movies, and he is probably straight.

I hope he is going to be the quiet, private kind like me. Or that he will be a real social butterfly, only here to sleep. That would work too. Just as long as I don’t have to make fake, forced small talk too often.

 

I am done unpacking when someone walks in. It is a tall boy with happy eyes and a bright smile. “Oh, hi! You must be Bram.”

“Yeah. And you must be Garrett.”

“That’s me. I’m going to go get my timetable and stuff. Do you want to join?”

I’m not sure I do, but I need to go there soon anyway, and I will have to get to know him at some point. Maybe it’s the perfect opportunity. “Sure, thanks.”

Garrett talks a lot. That’s fine, it means I don’t have to carry the conversation. But he also asks a lot of questions, and after fifteen minutes of walking through campus and queuing at the administration desk, he already knows more about me than I thought I would have told anyone this semester. He knows about my parents being divorced, and my little brother, about being single, about being here on an academic scholarship.

“Really? Wow, that’s impressive. I have a scholarship too, but it’s a sport one.”

“That’s impressive too,” I say. “Soccer?”

“Yes. It was just a hobby at first, but it got more serious when I realized I was sort of good and it could open college doors for me.”

“You are probably more than ‘sort of good’ if you got a scholarship,” I comment.

“Yeah, well… I was high school good. We’ll see about college level.” I don’t know why, but it’s with this sentence that I decide that I like Garrett, and that I will be fine being his roommate for a year. “Do you practice any sport?”

“I actually played soccer in high school.”

“Cool. You’re not playing anymore?”

“I’d like to find a team, but not an official one. I’d like to keep playing as a hobby, to stay in shape and to relieve some stress. But I don’t think I’ll have the time and energy to be in a proper team with a proper competition season and everything.”

“Yeah, I understand that. I’ll talk to the guys, and if we ever play for fun, you could join us.”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

Twenty minutes with the guy, and I’m already making social plans. He is like a little tornado that entered my life. Oddly, I don’t mind.

It’s finally our turn. We get given timetables, some brochures to read and some flyers. I will be in two of Garrett’s classes. He seems genuinely happy about that. Then he looks at one of the flyers and says: “Look, they have a buddy system!”

“Like in middle school?”

“No, not exactly. Apparently, you sign up and you get assigned a buddy. It’s supposed to be anonymous. You won’t know anything about them and they won’t know anything about you. You get assigned a locker in the students’ hall and you can exchange gifts and notes to boost each other’s morale during the year. There is an app, and you get a notification when someone leaves something in your locker. That sounds cool. Should we sign up?”

“I don’t know…”

“Look, worst case scenario, your buddy never gets you anything, and then you don’t have to do anything. Best case scenario, you get free chocolate during exam season.”

“True. Alright, let’s sign up.”

 

College turns out to be _much_ better than high school. I get along very well with Garrett. He makes me laugh, he doesn’t let me spiral, he is interesting. I don’t know. We just click. Not in a romantic way. He is objectively good looking, but I don’t see him that way. And I know he is straight because we started using the ‘sock system’ when he brought a sorority girl back to the dorm.

I didn’t take him for the sorority type, but I’m not even sure what that means. I have never spoken to a sorority girl. Maybe the movies don’t depict them accurately. After all, I feel miles from ‘fabulous’.

Garrett told me that he was grateful that I would leave him the room for the evening and that he would gladly return the favor when I’d feel like bringing a girl over. We agreed however that if we needed the room for the entire night, we should plan in advance. I hope that won’t happen, because I have no idea where I would sleep.

It won’t be a problem for Garrett though, because sex is really not a prospect for me at the moment.

College is also great because of soccer. Garrett and I play with a bunch of boys every Friday after classes. It used to be Saturday mornings, but I guess you can’t ask that of college students. There is another boy from the actual college team. Nick. He is fun as well, and we sometimes have lunch, the three of us.

But more than anything, college is great because of Jacques.

I didn’t take that buddy system very seriously when we signed up. As Garrett said, I was expecting to get some chocolates, or beer, from time to time. At best. But I got so much more.

He was the first one to leave something in my locker. After getting the notification, I went to check it out. The lockers are roughly the size of a mailbox, they have a digital lock, and they need a code to open. My code can open both lockers, but Jacques gets a notification whenever I use my code on his locker. When I got my first notification, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t really expect a letter. A very nice, super sweet letter wishing me all the best for this new chapter of my life, and putting perfectly chosen words on all the anxieties I could have, just to soothe them with lovely thoughts and advice.

He told me that he likes the idea of a ‘secret buddy’ and that we should use pseudonyms. In our exchanges, he is Jacques, and I am Blue.

I answered back, basically just trying to reciprocate, and it turned into nearly daily correspondence. It’s weird, at the time of phones and emails, and stuff, but I sort of love it. And it’s not like it stayed serious and formal. His last message was pretty much just a list of all the junk food I need to try, and what time of year would be the best to do it.

We also talk about the big things. Like the fear of not having chosen the correct path after high school, but being sort of stuck, because of students’ loans and stuff. About feeling homesick. I also tell him about things I haven’t even told Garrett. Jacques knows I’m gay. He is too. And he is out. It’s not that I’m not out, exactly. My parents know, it wasn’t a secret in high school, it’s just that I don’t know how to bring it up, and after Garrett mentioned girls the first time, I felt like I was trapped in a lie, and I don’t know how to come clean now. Jacques is cool about it, and he tells me that it is my decision, to be openly out, or just in my private circles. But he also said that I shouldn’t overthink it massively. The campus is mostly progressive, and I might be missing out on some experiences. He says that my future boyfriend is probably somewhere out there. When reading that, I couldn’t help but wonder if Jacques could be said boyfriend, out there.

Not that our relationship is romantic, we don’t even flirt. But he seems so cute and adorable in all of his letters that I am sure I would fall for him. Besides, it is so freeing to be so true and open with someone. The anonymity helps, of course, but he also unlocks something in me that allows me to just pour my heart out to him, talk about my fears, joys, successes, and failures.

Most of them. I still haven’t told him about the thing. I don’t think I will. I’m still not sure how I feel about it, so how could I put words on it?

 

I get a notification during my literature class, and my eyes immediately scan the room. I want to remember the faces of all the boys in here. Because none of them is Jacques. If I can’t know who he is, I can at least partly know who he isn’t.

I go to my locker straight after class. There is a letter and a box of Reese’s.

 

_Blue,_

_Thanks for the Oreos. Like, honestly, how did you find so many flavors? I’d love to tell you that they will get me through this term, but that would be a lie. I’ll have eaten them long before the Christmas break._

_From the letters, I probably sound like this weird teenager who can’t cook and just survives on junk food and sweets, and weighs like 200 kg. I swear I don’t. I eat vegetables too. And I can sort of cook. Maybe I’ll cook you something, one day._

_Actually, this is how we should end the school year. Meeting and I’d cook you something. That gives me time to perfect my skill._

_I have a little something for you too. Reese’s. I think I recall you writing that they were your favorites. (If I’m wrong, I’m sorry. But they’re still tasty, so they should still be a treat.) You can’t eat them yet, though. I know you’re having a hard time going out there and making friends. So here is the deal: next time you have a conversation with someone new, you can eat one (or ten. You know, your choice.) If it went well, it will be a reward. If it didn’t it will be comfort. Deal?_

_I’m just going to assume that you said yes._

_Let me know how socializing went!_

_Jacques._

 

On Saturday morning, I try to be really quiet going back to my room after showering. Garrett tends to sleep longer than me. But when I get in, he is awake, dressed, and packing a bag.

“Hi, Bram.”

“Hi. Why are you up so early?”

“Study group. You can join, if you want.” I’m about to politely decline, when Garrett gets ahead of the conversation: “I know, I know. You’re a lone wolf, and you didn’t get a scholarship because you don’t know how to study. But I also know that college is a step up from high school, and you might want to witness that you are not the only one struggling. Or you might want to share some of your infinite wisdom with us, help us get smarter and get some karma points for Heaven. For the half of you that believe in Heaven.”

“There is a Heaven in Judaism. Sort of.”

“Great. Then you can score Heaven points for both your religions.”

Garrett looks at me expectantly. “Who’s in that study group?” I ask.

“Nick and his roommate, and two friends of the roommate. Can’t remember his name.”

I hesitate for a moment, then I remember the note from Jacques. I can’t spend four years in my room. College is as much about education as it is about the people you meet. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

Nick booked one of the library study rooms. He is already there, with two girls I don’t know. From Garrett’s introduction, I gather that Abby is in Simon’s drama class, and Leah went to Simon’s high school. Simon being Nick’s roommate.

I sit down, and the door opens again. A boy walks in, and I presume it is said Simon. For a second, my brain completely blanks. He is _ridiculously_ cute. He has messy hair, as if he literally just woke up, grey eyes that I could stare into all day, cheeks flushed from the cold, an adorable dimple, and a very vibrant positive vibe.

Suddenly, I don’t feel like I can speak. Simon sits in the empty seat next to me and, just like that, reduces me to silence.

 

The study session goes great. I guess that Jacques and Garrett were right. I did need to spend time with people, realize that college isn’t a struggle just for me, and that it’s fine to also have a good time. Which I am. Even though my stomach does this weird thing whenever Simon speaks or moves.

As we are packing our things, Simon gets a text. He gets his phone, frowns, and puts the phone away.

“Is he the cute guy from the bar?” Abby asks.

“Yep.”

“Why do you look annoyed?” Nick asks. “Didn’t your date go well?”

Whoa… what? Simon is _gay_? It feels like Hanukah, Christmas and my birthday at the same time. It lights a beacon of hope in my heart, and I know it is ridiculous. I haven’t even spoken to the guy. And it’s not like I want to date. Yet, it is how my brain receives this piece of information.

“No, it did not. First of all, his name is Jack. And I just cannot date someone who shares a first name with my dad.”

“It’s not like he can choose his name,” Abby points out. “Plus, you can give him a cute nickname.”

“No, I’m with Simon on this one,” Leah says. “I wouldn’t date a Jack either.”

“Even if I could get over the name thing, the first question out of his mouth was ‘so, are you a top or a bottom’, and I get that we’re in college, and that fairy tales aren’t a thing, but I am not ready to admit that romance is dead.”

Abby scrunches her nose. “Okay, maybe he wasn’t for you then. Better luck next time?”

“Let’s hope so.”

 

_Jacques,_

_I ate a couple of Reese’s today. No, I didn’t cheat, I actually talked to people I didn’t know. Okay, I wasn’t the chattiest in the room, but it’s baby steps, right? I neither went well or bad, it was pretty basic interactions. But I still think it gets me a treat._

_Less than two weeks, and I managed to complete your challenge. How sad is it that I am a bit proud of it, when most people just do that every day?_

_I promise you, I actually have some conversation, especially when I get to know people. Hopefully, when we’ll meet, there won’t be any of that awkwardness, and I’ll just be able to talk to you. For real, like in our letters._

_And enjoy that meal. I mean… now that you sold yourself up, you do have to work on those skills._

_Blue._

 

Before I even know it, the first term ends, and it’s time for the holiday break. I’m glad for the time off, but I find it a bit hard to leave Jacques behind, even for a few weeks. He promised me that he would bring me back something from home, and I made him promise that it wouldn’t be food in case I came back after him. No one wants a moldy locker. He replied that his mind wasn’t always focused on food, and that even though he still had no idea what the gift would be, it would blow my mind.

I can’t wait.

 

My brain is a jerk. He spends the entire break focusing on two things.

The first one is Jacques. Four months of letters, very platonic letters, and that’s all I need to apparently develop a crush. I wasn’t realizing it when I could communicate with him every day. It makes sense to think about someone after reading one of its letters, but it has another meaning to be thinking about someone just because.

The second one is Simon. Since the study group, he has joined Nick for lunch a few times. He still gets me very tongue-tied, and we haven’t talked properly, but he is kind, smart and funny. And still so ridiculously cute. Apparently, the bed-head is a constant feature, and I really want to try to smooth his hair. See if it can be done. Again, that seems to be enough for me to develop a crush.

I can’t help but notice that they are both unreachable. Jacques will remain anonymous at least until May, that’s the deal, and I can’t talk to Simon. That makes them safe choices. Because there is no way I would indulge in something that could become real.

 

Despite my constant daydreaming about boys I can’t have, my mom tells me that I look happier and more relaxed than in high school.

I almost tell her about the thing, there and then.

But I can’t. I swallow back the words, I put on my fake smile, the one I used so much in high school, and she doesn’t seem to see through it this time.

 

I get the notification an hour before reaching college. I stop by my locker even before going to my room.

There are a wrapped gift and a card. The card says ‘ _I couldn’t find a mind-blowing gift. I tried, and I feel awful about letting you down, but I saw this and it made me think of you. Hopefully, it will make you smile. Happy new semester!_ ”

I tear the wrapping paper. It’s a children’s book about a shy little boy who overcomes his timidity and ends up being the most popular kid in the playground. It’s silly, and ridiculous, and I love it. It’s probably the best gift I got this year.

In his locker, I leave my own gift. It’s a book, too. Of Oreos recipes. With it, I leave a card saying ‘ _Ideas for our dinner. Happy New Year._ ’

 

A few days later, I am getting coffee after what feels like the longest day. My favorite coffee place is packed. I get my drink, and I think that I will have to take it all the way to my dorm when I hear a voice calling me. I turn around, and there is Simon, alone at a table, smiling and waving at me.

My heart just skips a beat, but I can’t pretend like I didn’t hear him after turning around and making eye contact. So I walk to him, and when he invites me to sit with him, I do.

Without anyone else with us, I don’t have any choice but talk to him. Once the first pleasantries have been exchanged, I am surprised to notice that it is much easier than I thought to talk to him. He tells me about his family, I tell him about my English project, he tells me about his play, I tell him about my baby brother…

“This is nice,” Simon suddenly says.

“What is?”

“Having coffee with you. I know we often have lunch together, but between Nick and Garrett, it’s hard to have a proper chat. I believe it’s our first real conversation.”

“I think you’re right.” I know he’s right. “So, anyway… how did your exams go?”

“Fine. Better than expected. That’s probably thanks to the study group. Actually, Leah was talking about making it a more regular thing this term, if that interests you.”

 

And just like that, I am in a weekly study group. My grades are the best, but I still find it very useful. Different perspectives are key in literature, and I feel like the group is broadening my horizons and filling my gaps.

I am almost becoming a people’s person.

 

And every time I see him, my crush on Simon gets bigger. I feel guilty because it’s overtaking what I am feeling about Jacques, but from his last letters, I can sort of tell that Jacques is into someone too. That’s for the best. No blurry line. Jacques is for support and friendship. Not romance.

Simon is… I don’t know what Simon is. But I am curious to find out.

 

One evening, Garret comes into our room as Simon and I are studying.

“Oh. Hi guys. Sorry to interrupt.”

“No, that’s fine,” Simon says. “It’s getting late, I should go. Thanks again, Bram.”

“No problem.”

“See you for coffee tomorrow? Usual time?”

“Sure.”

Simon leaves and Garrett looks at me with mischief in his eyes. “So… you and Spier?”

“What? No. That’s not like that. It’s just…” Just what? I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I’m not even properly out here. Simon is just being friendly. Nothing more.

“Hey, Bram, that’s cool. You like him, you don’t like him, that’s fine either way. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I misread that. We’re cool?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Cool. Do you want to go kick some balls in the park?”

“Sure, but… Garrett…” He stops to look at me, and my stomach knots I don’t know if I can do this. “I don’t know if I like Simon. But I am gay.”

“Okay. Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool. Are we still going to the park?”

That was much easier than I thought. I should have known that Garrett would be cool with it, he’s so easy-going, and he has accepted all my awkwardness and nerdiness so far. I think he might be more than a roommate. He might be a friend. “Yeah. Sure. Yeah.”

Garrett’s eyebrows rise a bit. “Sorry, is it with that vocabulary that you got your fancy scholarship?”

 

Garrett tells me that he thinks Simon is into me because of the way he looks at me at lunch or study group – even though I think he’s making this up because I never noticed anything – and because of questions he asked Garrett about me.

I don’t know if I believe that, but it’s enough to get me confused.

I never would have thought I had it in me, but I confront Simon about it as we are walking through campus between coffee and study group. “Simon… is something happening?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… we’re having coffee every day, we’re always having study sessions in which we are more talking than studying, and… I don’t know what that means. If it’s nothing and I’m reading too much into it, just tell me, I’ll go die of embarrassment, and we can go back to normal, but…”

“You’re not. Reading too much into it. I really like spending time with you, and… I don’t know if you’re gay or not, but I was hoping that maybe you were. I’m sorry if it makes things awkward.”

“It doesn’t.”

“No?”

“No,” I confirm.

He looks relieved. “Really? Great. So… would you like to go on a date with me? Not a coffee date, a real one. Like… dinner? Or a movie? Or… something.”

“I’d love too.”

“Tonight?”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

College really is amazing.

 

My first date with Simon is fantastic. He is cuter, funnier and more charming than ever. He hits me right in the heart with every look, every sentence and every laugh. I feel like a teenage girl in a bad rom-com, but it is a nice feeling.

After the movie, we hold hands as Simon is walking me back to my dorm. That’s what we agreed on. I picked him up, so he walks me back. It’s getting warmer, so none of us is wearing gloves, and our fingers brush with every step.

It’s the most romantic moment of my life.

Until we stop in front of my building, and Simon lets go of my fingers to cup my face. His eyes are a question, that I answer by shutting my eyes, and he is kissing me.

It’s nice, and sweet, and it leaves me wanting more.

 

Maybe the thing wasn’t a thing after all. Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.

 

I make it to my room, and Garrett is there, a cheeky smile on his face. “What?”

“I might have seen someone getting a sweet goodnight kiss a couple of minutes ago.”

“Spying much?”

“Yeah, but not on you. I’m actually trying to catch the guy next door so he stops leaving his music on when he leaves his room, because it’s driving me nuts. You just happened to be right there.”

“Right. So you didn’t watch?”

“Only for a second. The two of you were super cute. Just so you know, I’m claiming five percent responsibility for this love story.”

“It’s not a love story, it’s a date.”

“Yet.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s not a love story yet. But it will be.”

He looks so confident that at that moment, I totally believe it.

 

Simon and I go on a few dates. He’s like a dream come true. Jacques is super happy for me, especially because things are going pretty smoothly for him too. He seems so into that guy that if I wasn’t dating Simon, I would totally be jealous.

 

We are in my room and Garrett just left for soccer practice. We were supposed to study, but Simon’s lips are on mine, and I am not thinking about school. The kiss deepens, more than ever. I love it, but it also awakes something unpleasant in my stomach.

I try to silence it by pulling Simon closer.

Simon’s hand finds its way under my shirt, and I just freeze. I don’t want that. I can’t do this. I break the kiss, and I stand up. Simon looks a bit confused. “Bram? Is everything okay?”

“I… uhm… I think that was a mistake. Can you please go?”

“You… you want me to go?”

“Yes. Please.” I can’t make eye contact with Simon, but I can feel that he’s looking at me.

“Sure. I’ll go.” He stands up, and I feel relieved. He takes his hoodie and walks toward the door. But then he turns around and says: “Actually, I think I’ll stay a bit longer.” What? No. I can’t believe this is happening again.

“Simon, I…”

“Look, Bram, I get it. It was too fast for you, and I’m sorry. But I don’t want things to start being weird between us. Just… talk to me.”

“Fine. I thought I was into you, but I realized I’m not. I don’t think we should see each other anymore. Not like this anyway.”

“Wait… are you breaking up with me?”

“We weren’t really together, were we? That was just a couple of dates. Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we’re right for each other. We tried. It didn’t work.”

Simon looks like I punched him. He looks so hurt that even I want to cry. But I can’t do this, and it’s better to end things now, when it’s still relatively pain-free.

“Okay,” he says. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

He leaves, leaving me there with guilt, an upset stomach, and an empty heart. If I couldn’t get over it for Simon, I won’t ever get over it, will I?

 

Then the worst thing happens. I get a letter from Jacques telling me that he is feeling down because it didn’t work out with the guy he was seeing, and that he doesn’t even understand why. Then he wishes me all the best, saying that if one of us is happy, then it’s good enough.

The timing is too suspicious. There is this very strong possibility that Jacques is actually Simon. Too strong to risk it.

So I let go of Jacques too and I delete the app.

 

The whole thing is depressing. I stop going to study group, I have lunch on my own, and I barely talk to Garrett. He tries to give me some space, so it takes him a few days to try to get me talking. “So… it didn’t work between you and Spier?”

“No.” I sound snappy, and I hate it. It’s not Garrett’s fault. I think I just need time to lick my wounds and work through how messed up I am.

“I thought you liked him.”

“I did.”

“Okay. He clearly likes you too. I’ve just been to his dorm to give the new practice schedule to Nick, and he looked like the saddest puppy in the world. So… what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Bram, buddy… If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if any part of you needs or wants to, I’m here.”

Suddenly, I realize that I need to talk about it. Not to my mom, who would feel so guilty for not seeing it. Not to Jacques, because I don’t want the thing to be a part of my Blue identity. Certainly not to Simon, because I really like him, and it would destroy me if he didn’t understand. That leaves Garrett. Garrett who might be the best friend I ever had, and who has been this rock in my life since September. If he dismisses it, then it means that the thing isn’t really a thing, and that I have been building it up in my head. Maybe then I’ll find a way to let go. If he doesn’t dismiss it, then maybe talking about it will help me find a way to move on.

“It’s just… We were kissing, and…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“There wasn’t any spark?”

“No, there was. There were. Loads of sparks.”

“So what went wrong?”

“He… uhm… I couldn’t tell if he wanted to make out or if we were heading towards sex.”

“Oh. And I guess you haven’t had sex before?”

“No. I have.”

“Okay. Then… what?”

“I haven’t told you about the first time I had sex, did I?” That is a ridiculous question. Of course I haven’t. I haven’t told anybody. My heart is pounding so hard that it hurts.

“No. No, you haven’t.”

“There was this boy. From the soccer team. He had a girlfriend, but he was nice to me, and he was sending me mixed signals. I had the biggest crush on him. I think… I think part of me came out just in case, you know…” I can’t look at Garrett. My eyes remain focused on my hands. I can see that they are shaking a bit. “Anyway… he threw a party, at the end of the soccer season, junior year. I don’t really remember how we ended up in his room, but… we had both been drinking, and I felt brave. More than ever. So I kissed him. When he kissed me back, I was the happiest seventeen-year-old on the planet. But then… I asked him to stop. I wasn’t ready to go from zero to… I asked him to stop,” I repeat.

I quickly glance at Garrett. His face is somewhere between green and grey. “Bram, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No one knows.”

“What do you mean, ‘no one knows’?”

“I haven’t told anybody. Ever.”

“Bram…”

“After I asked him to stop… he told me that I would like it, that guys don’t need to be ready, that I was more than just a little tease, and I was drunk, and… I don’t think I said yes exactly, but I definitely let it happen.”

“Bram… you can’t just wear out a drunk person into having sex with you. That’s still rape.” There it is. He did what I always refused to do. He named the thing. “What happened after that?”

“Nothing. He acted like nothing happened, like he didn’t remember, he stayed with his girlfriend, I stayed on the team for half of senior year, before pretending that I couldn’t cope with school and sport, and…”

“So he managed to get away with it?”

“Please, don’t judge me.”

“Oh, Bram, no. I’m not, I’m really not. I’m trying to get the full picture… I am not judging you. In fact, I think you are harsher on yourself than I could ever be. Wait… you saw a doctor, right?”

“I did. It took me a couple of days, but… I couldn’t ignore the… I had to go. I just pretended that it was a regular first time, and… anyway, I was fine, I’m fine.”

“Physically.”

Suddenly, Garrett is sitting next to me, and his arms are around me.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a truckload of straight love that you can trust will never turn into sex.”

I hug him back, and I start crying. Tears that never made it out of me since it happened. not even during, when it was nothing but confusing and painful. We both fall asleep in my bed, Garrett holding me like I might break.

 

Garrett wants me to go to the health center and talk to someone about what happened. I’m not there yet.

But talking about it to Garrett was definitely a step in that direction.

One day, I’ll be able to talk about it, and then maybe I won't freak out just because the boy I’m falling for is making a move on me.

 

A few days later, after Garrett leaves for practice, there is a knock on my door. It’s Simon.

“Hi.” My heart and my stomach hurt at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” I reply.

“Can I come in for a minute?”

I nod and I let him in. I sit back at my desk and he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. Then he gets a small tin out of his bag and hands it out to me.

“What’s that?”

“Oreo cupcakes. I found the recipe in your book.”

My eyes jump from the tin to his face. “What?”

“It’s you, isn’t it? A few days ago, I came to pick up Garrett, and I saw the book on your shelf.” I don’t have to look to know which book he’s talking about. “I wanted to send you a letter about it, but you’re not checking your locker anymore, are you?”

I shake my head. “Simon… thanks for the cupcakes, but…”

“I just want to understand what happened, Bram. What did I do that was so bad that we can’t even be friends anymore?”

“We can still be friends.”

“Really? Then where are you during study group?”

“My grades are fine.”

“What about lunch? Are you fasting?”

“No, I’m… I’ve been busy.”

“Bram… I tried asking Garrett about it, but he told me, quite aggressively, to let it go. I just can’t. I’ll let Garrett beat me up if that means I can get an answer.”

“Simon, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did you break up with me? I thought we liked each other.”

“We did. I just can’t be with you right now?”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t have sex.” Damn my stupid mouth and its irrational decisions. Simon’s eyes go wide.

“Sex? What? Why? Wait… who’s even talking about having sex?”

“Simon… Trust me, you don’t want to be with me.”

“Bram, you’re not making any sense. Please, just talk to me.” For a moment, I don’t see Simon in front of me. I see Jacques. And just like that, I tell him everything. Not everything, I don’t go into details like with Garrett, but I still tell him most of it.

By the end of it, we are both sitting side by side on my bed, Simon holding my hand.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

I shrug. “It’s not your fault.”

“No. But I’m still sorry. So… are you talking to anyone about it?”

“No.”

“You should. It’s clearly still impacting your life.”

“I know. Garrett is pushing me to do it too. I just… I think I need a bit more time.”

“Of course. It’s whatever you need.”

“But now you know why we can’t be together.”

“Bram… I think you’re cute, smart, funny, caring… hot. And I do want to have sex with you. Down the line. I wasn’t trying to have sex with you the other day. I know we’re not there yet. And I’m fine with ‘there’ being a long time from now. We’ll take as long as you need. If we ever get there, I don’t want to sound presumptuous. It’s just… I really want to be with you. Like… boyfriends.”

“Simon… you say that now, but…”

“There is no ‘but’. I get that I don’t understand what you are going through. But I want to be there for you when you’re going through it. You’re more than worth it. And I am not going to dismiss you, or give up on you because you’re in pain. But I can’t do that alone. You have to meet me halfway, Bram. You have to talk to me. Not about… _it_ … if you don’t want to. But you need to tell me if I do something that takes you out of your comfort zone. I need you to trust me, and that goes through me knowing where our boundaries are, and knowing that you are comfortable enough with me to understand that I would never intentionally do anything that you are not one hundred percent fine with.”

I don’t think Simon was done with his monologue, but he is not speaking anymore, because my lips are on his. He kisses me back, and I don’t feel worried this time. Not one bit. It feels like the biggest step I’ve taken since the thing.

“Simon, I… I want that too.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. I want to be your boyfriend. I want us to have coffee together, keep up the study group, watch movies, go on dates… Be out and proud. With you. And I… I also want to be intimate. Not sex. Not yet anyway. But I want to try things. Baby steps. If you really can wait.”

“Bram… I want to take baby steps too. Not just because of the romance thing, or because of what happened to you, but… I actually never had sex.”

“Really? Didn’t you say you had a boyfriend in high school?”

“I did. But we never… sealed the deal. I think that there is a time for everything, and we weren’t ready, and… it doesn’t mean that our story wasn’t successful, it was great. It just wasn’t sexual. So if you’re worried that I will pressure you, trust me, I won’t. That’s not me.”

I nod. “I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t be. I get it. And I will get it if you freak out again. Just… come back to me when you calm down, alright?”

“I love you.” We both freeze. The words made their way out of my mouth without checking with my brain first. But Simon smiles happily at me, and says: “I love you too, Bram. I was already pretty deep with Blue, I was falling for that crush on the guy from my study group. How could I fight a combination of both?”

“Even if I’m damaged?”

“You’re not damaged, Bram. Something happened to you, but that doesn’t define you. I want to believe that we will manage to get over this somehow.”

“I will go to the health center,” I say.

Simon nods. “Good. I think that’s good. But let’s focus on happy things tonight. What do you want to do? We can go see a movie? Or go make fun at Nick and Garrett at soccer practice? Or…”

“I’d like to stay in,” I say. “And… I’d like to resume from where we left off last time.”

Simon’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yeah. I still want to take it slow, but… I also want to make out with you.”

“And who would I be to refuse you that?” Simon asks with a smile.

This time, it’s my turn to put a sock on the door. Sex will not be happening, but I still don’t want Garrett to walk in on us. This time, I don’t panic. Not when we kiss, not when we lie down, not when we get shirtless. Because I know there is a line, and that none of us is looking at the other side of it. This time, I only think about Simon, and not the thing.

I know I still have some way to go, but for the first time, it’s not at the forefront of my every thought. Maybe I will get over it, and simply turn it into a nasty memory rather than an overwhelming reality. Maybe all I needed was Simon.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was different, and it doesn't really fall in the 'feel good' category. I promise, I have loads of cute, happy chapters to come.


	23. What if Simon wore the shirt sooner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon finds a bag on his locker with an Elliott Smith T-shirt in it. It's a gift from Blue, who finally reached out to him. He can't wait to try it on.

On Monday, there is a plastic grocery bag looped through the handle of my locker, and my first thought is that it’s a jockstrap. I guess I’m picturing some stupid athlete giving me a sweaty jockstrap as a grand gesture of humiliation and douchery. I don’t know. Maybe I’m paranoid.

Anyway, it’s not a jockstrap. It’s a jersey cotton T-shirt with the logo from Elliott Smith’s _Figure 8_. Resting on top of it is a note that says this: _“I’m assuming Elliott understands that you would have made it to his shows if you could have.”_

The note is written on blue-green construction paper in perfectly straight print – not a hint of slant. And of course he remembered the second ‘t’ in Elliott. Because he’s Blue. He would.

The shirt is a medium, and it’s vintage soft, and everything about it is entirely, amazingly perfect.

I am not entirely sure what that means, but I don’t entirely care. It is Blue reaching out to me. Since I guessed wrong, our emails have been weird, to say the least, and I can’t help but hope that it means that things are going back to normal. Maybe even that he isn’t disappointed in Jacques being me after all.

I consider changing my shirt. I don’t know. On one hand, it’s weird, because Blue knows who I am, but I don’t know who he is, and it would feel weird; wearing the shirt, knowing that he might see it, but that I won’t even be able to know for sure. But on the other hand, it’s from Blue, it’s thoughtful, it’s perfect, and if he made a step toward me, maybe I should make one toward him?

I make my way to the auditorium changing rooms and I put Blue’s gift on. The fabric is incredibly soft. Except there’s something stiff and pokey between my shoulder blades, in that exact spot you can never quite scratch. I slide my arm underneath the hem and up through the bottom. A piece of paper is taped to the fabric inside. I catch it and tug it out.

It’s another note on blue-green construction paper, and it starts with a postscript. My fingers tremble as I read it.

_P.S. I love the way you smile like you don’t realize you’re doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon-grey eyes. So if you think I’m not attracted to you, Simon, you’re crazy._

And underneath that, he’s written his phone number.

There’s a tingling feeling that radiates outward from a point below my stomach – wrenching and wonderful and almost unbearable. I’ve never been so aware of my heartbeat. Blue and his vertical handwriting and the word ‘love’ repeated over and over again.

Blue is not disappointed in me. He is fine with me. He is _attracted_ to me. I’m so happy I could cry. No figuratively. I genuinely have to focus to keep the tears inside. It is the shirt, and the note, and Blue… but it is also the stress relief. I am not losing my… best friend? Boyfriend? Pseudo-platonic-anonymous-mysterious-online-pen-pal?

It doesn’t matter. Blue is still there. We are still moving in the direction I was hoping for. We are still… whatever it was that we were. According to his not, we even took a step forward. I think the note says that he _wants_ me.

I look at the phone number. Part of me is dying to ring him. Just dial the number and _know_. But I won’t do that. Not until he gives me explicit permission. I won’t betray his trust just as he gives it to me.

I won’t text him either. Not right away. I need to think about it. I don’t want to text him something I could have put in an email. I want him to feel like he was right to give me his phone number.

I hesitate for another second, but I go to the first lesson still wearing Blue’s shirt.

 

“It’s not the shirt you were wearing this morning,” Leah tells me as I join the table at lunch. She seems a bit worried. I get it, the bullying is not overwhelming, but it’s definitely present.

“Yeah, I know. I changed.”

“Why?” she asks and I can hear from her voice that she’s getting all protective.

“This one is softer,” I answer, vaguely. She is still looking at me funny, but she seems to be letting go because she doesn’t question me any further. Cute Bram is looking at me with his expressive brown eyes. It almost feels like he’s writing right through me and it makes me feel self-conscious. So I look elsewhere. That’s when I notice that Garrett is looking at the shirt. Staring at it, really.

Then he says: “Figure 8, right?”

“Yes,” I answer, flustered.

“Cool.”

What are the odds that Garrett would know about Elliott Smith’s figure 8? Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

 

Once at home and I stare at my phone for nearly twenty minutes. I don’t know how to reach out to Blue. That’s when I remember the emails we exchanged around New Year, when I told him that I wanted to send him pictures of Justice League office supplies, and how he was into that idea, just not enough to give me his number.

Even now, I’m sure he will remember that as soon as he receives the text. I think that is how we should start our texting history.

I get to the store and I buy Super Sharpies, super glue, super sticky notes, a ‘super glide’ pen, and a couple of other stuff with ‘super’ in their names.

I get home and I start unpacking everything in the living room.

“What are you doing?” Nora asks me, looking at me like she discovered I have a weird stationery addiction she never knew about.

“I’m working on a project. I need to take pictures of those super pens fighting crime.”

“Sounds fun. Can I help?”

And just like that, Nora and I spend the afternoon cutting out paper capes and masks, staging out super stationery rescuing regular stationery from diverse dangers. Not only do we end up with awesome pictures, but it’s also the most fun I had with Nora in a long time.

I end up texting sic pictures to Blue with what I hope to be fun titles for each of them.

And then I wait.

 

As I am brushing my teeth before bed, I stop for a second to look in the mirror. ‘ _I love your moon-grey eyes._ ’ That’s what he wrote. I know because I read that note a thousand times. Not that it would have made a difference, every word got engraved in my mind as soon as I saw them. I always thought that grey eyes were boring. I never thought it would be something someone would actually notice, especially behind my glasses. I never would have compared them to the moon, either.

Even here, alone in my bathroom, the idea of Blue staring at my eyes makes me blush. How did that even happen in real life without me noticing?

 

I check my phone as soon as I enter my room, just like I’ve done every ten minutes since I sent the pictures. And there it is. A reply from Blue. I answer it immediately and – because apparently fate is on my side today – he replies straight back, and we start having a conversation. A real conversation. Not huge paragraphs of pouring one’s thought waiting hours or days before an answer. A quicker exchange of words, paced in a way that almost makes me feel like he’s in my room.

 

_I don’t know what I expected when I gave you my number. But probably not a postmodern hexaptych._

_Then again, you sort of promised me it the last time you asked for my number. The delivery is still better than I could have imagined. Thank you, you totally made my day!_

_I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just google that word._

_I’m glad you think I made your day, but trust me, it’s nothing compared to you giving me your number._

_Thank you for the shirt, by the way._

_Thank you for wearing it._

_You saw that?_

_Of course I saw that. I always see you._

_And I’m pretty sure my heart stopped for a moment when you walked in with that shirt._

_When I walked in?_

_So we shared a room at some point?_

_…_

_Maybe._

_Be careful Blue, you might be dropping clues_ _😉_

_I have been doing that._

_You are just very oblivious._

_Is that a passive-aggressive comment at me thinking that you might be Cal Price?_

_Maybe._

_Sorry._

_No, I get it._

_How disappointed were you that I wasn’t him?_

_I wasn’t._

_Come on. I’ve seen the two of you. There is a spark._

_No, really. I just felt like an idiot._

_And I’m not sure we have a spark._

_Full disclosure: he is cute._

_But you are more than cute._

_You don’t even know what I look like._

_It doesn’t matter._

_I’m still thinking about you all the time._

_Maybe that’s why I saw you in the first guy that showed me any kind of interest._

_And now when I’m with Cal, I don’t think about him being cute._

_I think about you and who you might be._

_Any ground-breaking discovery?_

_No._

_I truly have no idea who you are._

_I know it’s not fair that I know and you don’t._

_I’m just not there yet._

_Blue…_

_We are texting._

_We are freaking texting._

_I feel one step closer to you already._

_I know what you mean._

_It almost feels like talking, doesn’t it?_

_It does._

_What do you think we would talk about if we were in school right now, waiting for first period?_

_Probably the new lunch lady._

_OMG_

_She’s weird, right?_

_No one from my lunch table ever mentioned her, and I thought it would be mean to be the one to do it._

_I’m not sure it would be mean exactly._

_She is very odd._

_I’m not sure it’s safe to eat the food she serves._

We carry on like this way past my usual bedtime. We barely talk about us, we just talk about random stuff. Like a real chat with a friend.

By the end of it, as we’re saying goodbye (because we’re on greeting terms now), I feel like this was our biggest step ever. Maybe even bigger than emailing for the first time. Today, Blue felt real and reachable, and I’m pretty sure he understood that I was into him more than Cal despite my stupid email.

It feels like we’re back and that we’re stronger than ever.

It almost feels like he’s my online boyfriend.

It feels like soon, I will be able to ask him who he is and he won’t freak out.

 

The only problem is: I am not a patient person.

The following day, I am already looking for him all around school. I know it’s stupid. I don’t have more clues today than I did last week, but… it’s just that he’s at the forefront of my every thought. I just want to text him all the time. He probably wouldn’t answer. I imagine Blue to be the kind of person to have his phone either switched off or in his locker.

Unless he’s like me and he can’t wait for another texting session.

At lunch, I can’t hold it anymore and I draft a text about the weird lunch lady. I send the text and Garrett’s bag pings.

My entire body shivers.

I just… I just need to be sure. So I send a follow-up text.

Garrett’s bag pings again.

 _Garrett_? This could still be a coincidence. No more Simon logic. I can’t really point blank ask him if his stepmother is pregnant or if he’s Jewish. That’s just weird. I should try with something a little subtler. Such as: “Guys, what do you think about the new lunch lady?”

I ignore all of my friends’ answers. I just listen to Garrett’s. “Like it’s probably not safe to eat here anymore. I mean… she seems nice enough, but it’s also like she never had any training on health and safety.”

 _It’s not safe_. Weren’t that Blue’s exact words about her? Plus… there was his reaction to the shirt. I need to think. What do I know about Blue that wouldn’t require me to ask Garrett personal questions in front of our friends? He shares a name with a president. There isn’t any Garrett in the list of the US presidents, we only had a vice-president named Garret. It doesn’t fit, but Garrett’s middle name is George. That fits. Blue also shares a name with a comic book character. There is a John Garrett in Marvel.

Could it be? Could Blue really have been _just in front of me_ for so long? How did I not notice? Probably because it’s hard to notice Garrett next to Cute Bram, but still.

So I look at Garrett. I truly pay attention to him for the first time. He is objectively handsome. And when he makes jokes, they seem just funny, but there always is something quite smart behind them. Blue smart?

From the emails, I always gathered that Blue would be someone quiet. More a Bram than a Garrett, for instance. But then again, I also thought that Blue was Cal, so what do I actually know?

 

All day, I try to figure out how to tell Garrett that I know without scaring him. I shouldn’t ambush him by talking to him directly. I should give him time to process it if he needs to. I shouldn’t text either. It is too big for texts. It should end where it started.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 11 at 7.11 PM

SUBJECT: Attempt #2

 

Blue,

I have a new list for you. I am pretty sure it will make up for the stupid one I made last time.

  1. You share a name with a former US president, even if it isn’t the name we call you by.
  2. You also share a name with a Marvel comic book character.
  3. You like soccer.
  4. We have lunch together.
  5. But we never really talked.



I’m going to hit send now, hoping that I am right this time and that I won’t make you pull away again.

If I am wrong, please forgive me. Please, please, please forgive me and believe that whoever you are, that is who I want. Please don’t disappear again.

Love,

Simon.

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 11 at 7.34 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Attempt #2

 

Simon,

I was lucky enough to guess right. It took me a bit of time, but I realized that I can’t blame you for guessing wrong if I don’t also blame myself for pushing on the secrecy so hard.

I won’t disappear on you again.

But regarding your list.

  1. Yes.
  2. Yes.
  3. Yes.
  4. Yes.
  5. Yes.



I assume that those weren’t just shots in the dark and that you actually found out my civilian identity this time.

Then why I am still afraid to sign my name?

Love,

Blue.

 

 

He didn’t sign his name. It doesn’t matter. He confirmed all of the clues. Plus, he finally, _finally_ , started to sign his emails with ‘love’ again. I know it’s just a greeting, but it feels like a declaration.

Blue. Garrett. I still can’t wrap my mind around it.

 

The following day, my eyes are searching for Garrett the moment I park into the parking lot. He, however, finds me first and pulls me into an empty class. My heart is pounding. Garrett’s face is so close to mine. He could kiss me right now. I try to focus on the fact that it’s Blue. I am so into Blue, but I am still not sure if I’m into Garrett. Which shouldn’t be a thing. They are the same person.

Maybe it will all fall into place when we kiss.

“Spier… You are an inch away for screwing everything up.”

“What?”

“I am _not_ who you think I am.” I understand what he means immediately. I have mixed feelings about this. I am so disappointed that I guessed wrong. Again. Blue is still not a real boy that exists, he remains a shadow that I can never quite summon properly. On the other hand, I don’t feel particularly disappointed that Garrett isn’t Blue. But it’s still almost harder to shake than when I thought it was Cal. Because Cal was pure Simon logic. Garrett was a list of clues and coincidences, and generally stuff that worked and matched. I completely believe that he isn’t Blue. Garrett wouldn’t lie about that and, after his last email, I know that Blue wouldn’t either. He isn’t ready to come forward, but he is ready to be found.

I’m just not smart enough, apparently. I still really need to understand how I could get that mixed up this time.

“How do you know about Elliott Smith?”

“Who?”

“My shirt.”

“What shirt?”

“The figure 8 one.”

“Oh. It’s a mural, in LA. I’m following this street artist on Instagram, and he was on the team that restored the design a few years back.”

“Oh.” But what about the other clues? The bag pinging, the lunch, the soccer, the… Oh. _Oh. OH_.

 “Okay, listen carefully, because I’m about to betray the one person I thought I never would. And he can never know I did.” Garrett waits for me to nod before carrying on. “I saw you connecting dots wrong, and I sort of hoped that you would realize soon enough, but you really are as clueless as everyone says. Which I guess is endearing, but we are _SO_ lucky that your little list fit the both of us. I don’t think he could have handled you guessing wrong a second time. He was so happy when he received your list. I don’t know what was on that list because I can know about the emails, but I can’t know what’s in them. I’m just so relieved that you managed to find a list of similarities between the two of us. But, again… I am not who you think I am.”

“Because it’s Bram,” I finish.

Garrett looks so relieved that I finally connected the dots right. “Because it’s Bram. Do whatever you want with that information but please, please, don’t let him know that you guessed wrong. Or if you do, don’t let him know that you guessed _me_.”

I nod again. I can’t speak. I’m too shocked by the whole thing. Garrett understands that I got the message and starts walking out. Before opening the door, he stops and turns around. “I know that you don’t know him that well because he’s so quiet all the time, but… He is a great guy. Maybe the best person I know, actually. I’m not sure what you plan to do, but… if you give him a chance, you won’t regret it.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” It sounds like I just politely answered Garrett with a generic sentence and he leaves looking a bit disappointed. But it wasn’t a lie. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed by Bram Greenfeld. Cute Bram is Blue. I still can’t believe it.

Even though I can sort of see it now.

Plus, on a totally superficial note, I am much more attracted to Bram than Garrett.

But… wait… “Garrett?”

“Yeah?”

“How is he a president?”

“What?”

“Bram… how does he share a name with a president?”

“What the hell were you two emailing about? Nope, wait, don’t answer that. Bram is short for our beloved sixteenth president’s first name.”

 

Bram didn’t sign the email, so I don’t push it at lunch. But we are clearly exchanging looks. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. It’s a miracle that no one notices. Apart from Garrett, maybe, but at this point, my brain is almost trying to forget that Garrett ever existed. Now that I came back from the shock, I am mortified.

Thank God Garrett was smarter than me.

 

For a couple of days, we text every night. Blue still doesn’t come out as Bram, but we talk about the English lesson of the day, we talk about soccer practice, we talk about Nick and Abby, until one night, we are talking about our families, coming out, and how it changed some things.

 

_I mean… I know that my dad is fine with it._

_Just maybe not 100%_

_I think there are very few parents who are entirely fine with that._

_Take my mom for instance. I know she’s fine with it._

_But I can see in her eyes sometimes that she wishes I didn’t add ‘gay’ to ‘nerd’, ‘Jewish’ and ‘black’._

_I guess you’re right._

_But I’ll have you know that ‘gay, nerd Jewish and black’ are all on my list of qualities a boyfriend should have._

_Alongside with ‘smart, cute, grammatical, soccer star, quiet and humble’_

_Do you know anyone that fits that description?_

_I might actually._

_Is he available?_

_No, he is not._

_He is very much taken by a patient, understanding, amazing, cute, kind, oblivious grey-eyed boy._

_Is he?_

_Yes. He’s quite lucky._

_Not as much as the oblivious boy._

_Are they happy?_

_…_

_Probably not as much as they could be._

_?_

_Simon, could you get someone to give you a lift to school tomorrow morning?_

_Sure, why?_

_I’d like to take you somewhere._

_Like a date?_

_TBH, I just wanted to show you something._

_But, yeah?_

_We could go get some food somewhere._

_Properly take things offline._

_Are you ready for that?_

_To be offline or to be out?_

_Either._

_Both._

_I am so ready to be offline._

_I have been for a long time now._

_The coming out to the world thing is what has been holding me back, really._

_And I believe that I am finally ready for that too._

_Okay._

_It’s a date, then._

_Can’t wait._

_❤_ _️_

 

I mean… I could die right now and my life would still have been worth it.

 

When I leave school that Friday, my heart is racing, my palms are sweating, and I am more impatient than a child on Christmas morning.

Bram is already waiting for me, leaning against his car. I already knew he was handsome, but right now, he looks like everything I’ve ever wished for, plus a little more.

He smiles shyly at me. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely!”

That was eight words. It’s still amongst our longest face to face conversations. There is a bit of awkwardness as he starts the car and I can’t wait for it to melt away. I know it will. We are so good at texting.

“You are so quiet,” I say after a while.

“I told you… I can’t talk to cute boys.” But there is a smile on his face and I like that he is joking about it. Maybe the texting was a good step to have after the emailing.

“I can’t complain about that,” I say. “I just need to make sure that cute boys don’t have a secret email account.”

“Does that bother you though? I mean… Obviously, we’ll be able to talk now, but I’ll always be quiet.”

“Bram, there isn’t a thing about you that bothers me.”

I see him blush, so I change the subject. “Where are you taking me?”

“I wanted to show you something in Atlanta, but I don’t have plans after that. It was a bit last minute, and I thought we could just walk around, find a place that we like and have dinner there. Should I have planned the date better?” He looks nervous.

“No. That sounds perfect.” It really does. We’ll walk around, we’ll talk, maybe we’ll even hold hands if we feel like it. And when we’ll be hungry, we’ll find a restaurant. You can learn a lot about someone about the kind of place they choose to eat. I’m sure he’ll find a way to blow my mind again.

 

Bram takes me to a crossroads. Not a metaphorical one, he literally takes me to an intersection of Piedmont Avenue. The crossroads have all been replaced by rainbows.

“What is it?”

“An homage to the Pulse victims in Orlando,” Bram answers.

“How did I not know we had that in Atlanta?”

Bram shrugs. “I didn’t know either until I stumbled upon it one day and I crossed the street on a giant gay flag. Believe it or not, it was when I went to buy your Elliott Smith shirt.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That’s when I understood that I needed to be stronger. Not just because of the story behind the homage, but also because we now live in a world where we can have rainbows as crossroads to celebrate the gay community. Of course, it’s not perfect. We will face challenges. I know you’re being bullied. But it might be the best it’s ever been. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be out, to live, and to keep changing things. Even if it’s just by being me. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“I’d like to do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Stop being afraid.”

And he kisses me. Just like that, in the street, in broad daylight. It doesn’t matter because the entire world disappears as soon as we touch, and I kiss him back.

“Boys, you’re sort of in the way!” We jerk apart and behind us is a lady with a stroller, apparently waiting to cross the road. She had a nice, amused smile on her face and we move to let her pass.

When I look at Bram, his cheeks are flushed, but he is smiling. “Okay, so… maybe less PDA?”

“Sure,” I agree.

“Ready for our improvised date?”

I nod, he takes my hand, and I follow him. At this point, I’d follow him anywhere.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spin-off here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883185)


	24. What if they went on a fake date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lunch group agrees to go on fake dates to prove a theory. Simon is matched with Bram Greenfeld.  
> Is it possible to fall in love with someone in one fake date? And what does that mean for Blue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I sort of did the whole "fake date" thing, but I swear it's different.  
> As different as this series will allow me anyway ;)

Abby and I are discussing the play when we walk in the cafeteria, but we stop when we reach the table because they all seem to have quite an intense conversation.

“I don’t believe it’s as basic as that,” Garrett says. “You can’t force chemistry.”

“True,” Leah answers. “But it’s called ‘chemistry’, because, in the end, love is just a chemical reaction between two people. It wouldn’t work for anybody, there has to be a bit of an attraction, but after that, yes, I believe you can make things happen just by faking it.”

“You are such a cynic,” Morgan says.

“You said yourself that you believed in the article!” Leah comments.

“I do. But I don’t understand it the way you do. It’s not about hormones and stuff. It’s about creating a perfect moment and a connection between people. It’s psychological, not physical.”

“I just don’t believe that works at all,” Nick replies.

“What are we talking about?” Abby asks.

“An article I read yesterday,” Anna answers, “which pretty much said that you can get anyone to fall in love in one date.”

“With a stranger, or with someone you actually want to go on a date with?” Abby asks.

“Either.”

“Then I don’t think that’s true either. I mean, love is a strong feeling. What do you think, Si?”

“I’ve been on a date with Anna,” I say. “Did you fell in love with me?”

I said that as a joke, and I really didn’t expect her to answer: “I think I could have. We just didn’t do the date right.”

“Are you saying that if we had this one date right, we’d still be together?” I know that she doesn’t know I’m gay, but surely she realizes that we barely hang out when we were together, and that we don’t speak much since we broke up. There were no hard feelings after the break-up because the relationship was nothing but wind. Not just on my part. I don’t believe for one second that she was anywhere near in love with me back then. Or ever.

She shrugs. “Who knows? The article was pretty convincing.”

“I would like to see that,” Nick comments. “Simon and Anna on a do-over date. If you two fall in love after a date, I’d totally believe the article.”

“Why do I have to be the Guinea pig?” I ask. “You go with Garrett, and then I’ll believe the article.”

“That would be cheating,” Garrett says winking at Nick. “Eisner and I already have loads of sparks.” To my surprise, Nick winks back. He’s not embarrassed by the joke. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe he will be fine with my coming-out.

“Okay, what does the article say exactly?” Abby asks.

“It’s basically a bucket list of what to do during the date to ensure success,” Morgan answers, “and a bunch of testimonies for people for whom it worked.”

“If you collect your date from enough people, you can make it look like it works,” Bram points out. “No amount of success stories is relevant if you don’t know the failure rate.”

“Then let’s just collect our own data,” Abby suggests. I hate the idea the moment it crosses her lips.

“Plus, we are four boys and four girls. It’s perfect, right?” Morgan says, apparently already seduced by Abby’s words. I wouldn’t be surprised if that means she already has someone she would like to go on a date with. Please, God, if you’re real, let it not be me.

“Why does it have to be boys and girls?” Leah asks. Abby’s eyes are on me immediately and she seems uncomfortable. Leah doesn’t notice and she continues: “If the article says that _anyone_ can fall in love in one date, surely we can't start picking favorites.”

“Wait, we’re not really doing this, are we?” Nick asks.

“Of course not,” Leah answers.

“Of course yes,” Garrett replies. “Come on Burke. If it doesn’t work, you’re right and love doesn’t truly exist. If it works, you’re right and love is just a chemical reaction that can be triggered in the brain. You’re literally the only one here that can’t be proven wrong.”

“Fine Laughlin, you’re on. But I’m not going on a date with Nick.”

“Hey! Wait…” Nick starts arguing. But he pauses and then says, “No she’s right, that would be weird.”

“I thought we couldn’t pick favorites?” I tease. Thank goodness we don’t have to pick, because there is no one here I would like to go on a date with. Hopefully, the whole thing will blow over soon and I won’t have to go through the awkwardness of this. Or maybe I’ll have to do this with Abby and then it won’t be too awkward. At least she knows the truth about me.

Garrett opens his school bag, gets a block of post-it notes out and empties his pencil case right into his bag. Bram looks at him like he just kicked a kitten. Then Garrett writes our names on eight different post-it notes, folds them and puts them in the empty pencil case.

“Okay, who’s drafting?”

“I’ll do it,” Abby says. Garrett hands her the pencil case and pulls two pieces of paper. “Okay, the first lucky couple to fall in love will be… Anna and Garrett.”

“Is there any kind of bro code saying that I can’t make your ex-girlfriend fall in love with me, Spier?” Garrett says it as a joke, but I think he’s properly checking. Which I guess is sweet.

“No, that’s alright.” Anna glances at me immediately. Was she really hoping for a do-over? And if so why?

Garrett makes her pick the next couple. It’s Leah and Abby. Abby finds it very amusing, Leah doesn’t show any sort of emotion, and I can’t help to notice that Nick seems a bit disappointed.

I draft Nick and Morgan.

Which leaves… “Spier, you’ll be entertaining my boy Bram. Lucky you!”

Bram looks at me and he has a sort of apologetic smile. It’s adorable in a way, but I can feel that the date is going to be all kind of awkward. I should look at it as good practice for when I’ll ask Blue on a date. Only, hopefully, Blue will do this because he wants to, not because Anna read a stupid magazine.

“Okay, with those pairings, there is no way the article is going to be proven right,” Nick comments. I know he didn’t mean it like that, but I can see that Morgan is quite offended. So I guess this couple isn’t going to fall in love.

“Okay,” Anna says, “I’ll send everyone the article. We should all do the date on the same night. I’m thinking Friday. Does that work for everyone? Great. Monday, lunchtime, we’ll discuss the outcome. Maybe we’ll have a couple of new couples!”

 

I’m pretty sure that this stupid idea won’t last till Friday. But Friday shows up, and everyone is apparently still doing it, and I’m in my room, looking at the stupid list from Anna’s article.

 

  * **Step 1: Make an effort. You have to look your best.**



I don’t know how much of an effort Bram is going to make, and I don’t want to look like an idiot either way. But we all promised to try, so I get ready as if I was going on a real date. I put on nice underwear because my grandma told me once that nice underwear affects the way you behave even if no one can see them (although I’m pretty sure she was actually talking to Alice), I put a shirt on, and I try to discipline my hair. The last one failed. I hope Bram likes messy hair.

“I’m not sure that going on a ‘fake date’ is healthy,” my mother comments as I get downstairs.

“Mom, it’s fine. We’re not lying to anyone. We both know it’s just pretend. We’re trying out a theory.”

“And what if that boy falls in love with you?” my dad asks with a goofy smile. “I’m sure you’d wish you picked a girl then.”

 _No, Dad, I wouldn’t. Actually, it’s more likely that I’ll fall in love with Bram Greenfeld than the other way around._ But I can’t say that, so instead, I go for: “No one is falling in love with anyone. We’re just going out, and hopefully, it will be fun. I don’t really know Bram, but he’s friends with Nick, so I’m sure we’ll get along.”

“If you say so,” my mom says, still not very convinced. “Anyway, you look great, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

  * **Step 2: Be on time. Showing up late sends the message that you don’t care.**



This one is on Bram. He knocks on my door at exactly six, like we agreed on. He made an effort too, and he looks cuter than ever. For a fraction of a second, I’m wishing it were a real date.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

And we’re back to awkward. It’s going to be a full evening with a guy I don’t really know.

“Look, Simon… we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable. I know it’s unusual.”

“No, I’m good,” I say, and I know that it’s partly because I want to go through this even just to prove my dad wrong. “I’m sure it will be fun.” Bram has a soft, shy smile, and he looks adorable. “Alright… Should we get going?”

“Sure.”

 

  * **Step 3: Avoid awkward silences. If you are running out of topics, you can always discuss the reasons you are on a date right now.**



We are in Bram’s car when I read Step three out loud. Bram chuckles.

“I’m sure they mean complimenting each other,” he says. “Not discussing their article.”

“I’m sorry if there is someone else you wanted to go with,” I say.

Bram frowns. “Such as whom?”

“Leah? I’ve noticed a couple of looks.”

“Leah?” He looks genuinely surprised. “No, I didn’t want… I wouldn’t have preferred a date with Leah.” There is something odd in the way he says it, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“So what do you think about the article?”

“I think it’s true to some extent. There is something to love in everyone, it’s just about finding it. Besides, usually, people who go on date are at least attracted to one another. The article is just mapping out a good date. But it’s not a magic formula.”

“Oh? So I’m not about to fall in love with you?”

Bram blushes. I kind of feel bad, because he’s obviously not in his comfort zone, but it’s also very endearing. “Let me know on Monday,” he replies, and I just love that he has a good come back even when he’s embarrassed.

“How many new couples do you think we’ll get?”

“Nick and Morgan is a clear no,” he answers. “I guess Anna and Garrett are a maybe. I don’t know Abby and Leah well enough to know if it’s a possibility.” I never even thought about that. I don’t know if either of them could be into girls, and I feel stupid – given my personal history – to have assumed otherwise.

Bram doesn’t mention us, and part of me wants to ask ‘What about us?’, but I shouldn’t make him uncomfortable so soon in the date.

 

  * **Step 4: Don’t go to dinner straight away. You are trying to build a moment, and you want the night to last. A movie is always a safe option.**



We don’t argue with the article, and we go to the cinema. Bram seems to be into the superhero film, and that reminds me of Blue. I’m so lucky that Blue doesn’t know who I am, because I would hate to randomly come across him tonight and for him to see me on a date with another – hot – boy.

But Bram doesn’t ask to go see it after reading the synopsis. Instead, he says “Since we are on a date, however fake, should we go for a romcom?”

“Sounds like the only logical choice.”

Bram smiles, and it sort of feels like he’s mocking me. “Yes. Logic. Exactly the kind of feelings we’re looking for right now.”

I gently nudge him with my shoulder, and his smile gets bigger. Bram pays for the tickets, I pay for the drinks and popcorn. I almost have to start reminding myself that it’s not a real date. Bram is most likely straight, and even if he isn’t, he never showed me any kind of interest. He’s just here because of post-it notes in a pencil case.

“So… Step five? How comfortable are we with this one?” Bram asks.

“Uhm… I don’t know. I mean… it’s on the list.”

“We can’t go for ‘natural and falsely accidental’, tough. Should we plan for it? It’s a romcom, so should we say big romantic end scene?”

“Sounds perfect.” That’s a lie. It sounds awkward and close to hell. But it’s on the list.

 

  * **Step 5: Make light physical contact. Even before dinner, try to engage in some sort of physical contact to demonstrate your interest. It needs to seem natural, so you can start by brushing your arms against his/her ‘accidentally’ and take it from there. The Holy Grail at this point would be hand holding.**



The seats aren’t that wide, so our arms are accidentally touching regularly anyway. But when the big romantic scene happens, Bram shifts in his seat a couple of times, apparently unsure about what to do. Then he puts his hand on my knee. My entire world narrows to that one point of contact between us.

A boy has his hand on my knee. It feels too unreal to be true. I put my hand on his, sure that he is going to take his away, but he doesn’t.

I’m not quite sure how it happens but when the couple starts kissing, our fingers are sort of intertwined. My heart beats incredibly hard, and I try to rhythm my thinking to its beat. _It’s fake. It’s fake. It’s fake._

Also, it’s not Blue.

 

  * **Step 6: Chose the restaurant wisely. It’s a date, don’t go somewhere you would go with your friends. The aim is romantic, not too crowded, and within budget.**



Bram knows this incredible little Italian restaurant that I never heard about. The room is small but in a cozy way, with wooden beams, stained windows, and the lighting is soft, almost muted, with candles on every table, some Italian ballad playing in the background.

It’s probably the most romantic setting I’ve ever encountered.

When Bram sits in from of me, cheeks pink, candlelight shining in his eyes, he looks like a painting. For a moment, I wish we were at Step eleven. Not that it will happen. We all agreed we could stop at step ten.

The owner is an old Italian man that keeps calling us love birds, and who seems to think that there is nothing more natural and adorable than a biracial gay teenage couple. When he asks Bram how long we’ve been together, Bram tells him that it’s our first date, and with a smile that only senior citizens can have, he tells us that dessert will be on the house.

The food is amazing. The pasta I’m eating will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. And then a bit longer.

I know it would be extremely tacky to bring Blue here, but it _is_ the perfect setting for a first date. I don’t know how a real date will ever beat this fake one.

 

  * **Step 7: During dinner, try to mention five things you like about the other person. Be real, avoid the clichés and don’t try to over-do it.**



Against all odds, Bram and I get along very well. We don’t need prompts to keep the conversation going. We only have a look at Step seven before dessert.

“I think we should take turns,” I say. “Can I start?” He nods, seemingly nervous. “I like that you are so smart.” Bram frowns, like he doesn’t believe me. “No, really. I think it’s really impressive how you get high grades, and the answers you give in class, and… I think I just have a thing for grammatical, nerdy people.”

“I like that you are passionate about drama. I’m always a bit impressed by the way you talk about the play. It’s like you love everything about it. The story, the lights, the costumes, the cast… I don’t know that I have such passion about anything.” He says that, and I don’t really thing about Cal Price. I only think about when we are going to perform in front of the juniors, and how I want to impress Bram that day.

“I like the friendship you have with Garrett. It seems like it’s the two of you against the world, and you strike me as a very loyal person.”

“I like that you’re still friends with Anna. It says a lot about someone when they can be mature enough to move past a break-up.”

“I like that you’re quiet, but it’s obvious that so much is happening in your head. I would pay good money to be able to read your mind, even just for an hour.”

Bram blushes again. “I don’t think I’d like that,” he comments. “I like, however, how funny you are.”

“I like the way you play soccer. There is something in your game that’s not quite the same as the other players.”

“I like that you’re not afraid to make eye-contact with people.”

“I like how humble you are about everything. You never gloat about your grades, or soccer, or... just being awesome in general.”

“I like your moon-grey eyes.” I think my mouth falls slightly open. It’s not just what he said, it’s how he said it.

The owner arrives with the desserts, and I feel so grateful that he interrupted the moment. I can’t make fun of the article anymore. I’m not in love, but I think I’m developing the biggest crush of my life on Cute Bram Greenfeld.

 

But it is not a real date. And as you do on a fake date, we split the check. The owner gives us The Look when we tell him that?

“You split the check on a first date? You can’t do that! Who invited the other one?”

“It’s complicated,” Bram answers with a smile.

“Then you can have a complicated check,” the owner agrees with a sigh. “But sort yourselves out next time!”

“Promise!” Bram swears, and there is a weird feeling in my stomach. I think I’m disappointed to know that he doesn’t mean that. That there won’t be a next time. All we have is tonight, and it’s not even real.

I’ve been repeating that again, and again, but it’s harder and harder to see.

 

  * **Step 8: Don’t let the evening end too early. After dinner, go for a walk. Around the block will do, but remember, the more romantic the better!**



We end up in a parc. I don’t remember walking that slowly, ever, but I really don’t want us to move faster. Actually, if I could freeze time, I would. There is something nice about walking without a set direction in mind, taking time to enjoy the decor, talking to an interesting, charming boy.

Even if it’s confusing as hell.

 

  * **Step 9: Let yourself be true and vulnerable. Tell the other person something you have never told anyone else.**



Bram does this one out of the blue. I know it’s Step nine, because there is no other reason to explain Bram Greenfeld telling me something so personal. “I don’t think my father loves me as much as my mother does.” We are quiet for a few steps after that. I don’t know what to answer – I don’t know his parents – and I have the feeling he isn’t done talking. “I know he loves me, but… I also don’t feel like he really knows me. In which case… does he love me, or does he love the boy he thinks I am?”

“I don’t think my father knows me either,” I say, thinking about the comment he made about this date. “But I know he loves me, and I know he would love the parts of me he doesn’t know about.”

“It just sucks that they aren’t interested enough to know they’re there,” Bram sums up. I nod. “You shared too,” Bram says. “You don’t have to do Step nine.”

“No, I want to. No cheating, right?”

“Sure,” and he’s smiling. Things with Bram are… nice and easy.

The first thing that crossed my mind is coming out to him. But I can’t put that kind of pressure on whatever we built tonight. Bram Greenfeld will never be my boyfriend, but he could be a pretty decent friend. That I have indecent thoughts about. Plus, I already came out to Blue, and to Abby. And Martin, in a way.

I almost tell him that I’m in love. I can’t, for two reasons. The first one is that if I say that, I close forever a door that might not even exist on a future with Bram. The second is that if I feel that way, am I really in love with Blue?

I need to find something else. Something I haven’t even told Blue. “When I was twelve, my grandfather got pneumonia and he was sent to the hospital. We went to see him, and he had a tube in his throat. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, but his eyes were so alive and expressive. They showed joy when we came in, but after that, they mainly showed pain. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. That night, I remember talking to a God I don’t think I believe in, and telling him that he should just make my grandfather die. That it would be the easy way out for everybody. I was just scared about having to go back, you know? He died during the night. My brain… my brain knows that it’s not my fault, that it’s not on me… My heart, however, is not so sure. And even if it’s not connected, I still had these awful thoughts, and…”

I am interrupted by Bram’s fingers wrapping around my wrist. It’s not a romantic move, it’s a friend being there for another friend, and I have never been more grateful for anything before than I am now for this hand reaching out to me.

“You were a child, Simon. And you’re a human being. As such, we do not cope well with death, illness, fear and the unknown. Yes, it was an awful thought, but I don’t believe that you actually wanted your grandfather to die. You were just being human, and you had a moment of panic. We all do. It’s never pretty, but it happens.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Thank you for trusting me with that.”

 

  * **Step 10: Take the other person home. Not only does that prolong the evening, but it also shows that you care about the other person’s wellbeing and it can lead to the next step.**



Bram drives me home. He parks and switched off the engine. He walks me back to the door, and it’s another thoughtful attention that confuses my romantic gay brain. Yes, I finally admitted it, I’m really a romantic. And tonight fed that side of me so perfectly.

I’m almost panicking about the night ending. I’d give almost anything for an extra half hour.

 

  * **Step 11: The goodnight kiss. If the evening went well, you might go for the kiss. But remember, it’s about the moment as much as the person, and you can’t force any of them. It is equally romantic to wait until date number two.**



“Okay, well, obviously, we can skip that one,” I say, but when I look at Bram, he’s looking at my lips. Oddly, the first thing I think about is how crazy it is that we can notice so easily where someone is looking when their eyes probably are less than a millimeter off. I think my mind is just trying to gain some time before having to face the overwhelming reality that Bram Greenfeld is considering kissing me. I think he wants to.

I think I want to.

I know I want to.

So when he takes a step forward, I close the gap.

It’s my first real kiss, and it’s sweet, and messy, and great, and confusing. I am feeling all the things I am supposed to. The ones described in books and shown in movies. My stomach hurts but in a good way, my heart races, my hands tremble and my knees go weak. But I also have all those feelings that are not advertised. For starters, I feel a bit ashamed. I don’t know how much of this moment is me wanting Bram, and how much is me just wanting a boy. Any boy. Well… maybe not any boy, but probably not a specific one either. Then I feel guilt. Because there is a specific boy. That boy just isn’t Bram. The worst part is, even when I start thinking about Blue, it’s still not enough to make me break away from Bram. Not for another two seconds. That’s when I start feeling disgusted. Not by the kiss, not by Bram – absolutely not by Bram – but by myself. Is that the kind of person I am?

I suddenly jerk away from Bram. My body literally jumped back. There are a couple of feet between us now. We look at each other, breathing fast, both flushed and embarrassed. Then Bram leaves without another word.

Fuck.

 

I barely get any sleep, because I think about the date all night. I was surprised that Quiet Bram would agree to do this. I fully expected the evening to be awkward, and it was at first. It didn’t last though, and it was nice after that. Quiet Bram turned into Cute Bram, then Charming Bram, and there were moments when it felt like a real date. That ended with a real kiss.

Gosh, that kiss.

I know that’s what’s keeping me awake. I have no idea what it meant. Was Bram following through with the assignment, or was he genuinely interested? Is Bram Greenfeld gay? And what does that mean for Jacques and Blue? Do I have to tell Blue? We never talk about real-life crushed. Not current ones anyway. Blue sometimes feels like my boyfriend, but there is a good chance that it’s all in my head and he is not on the same page at all. Not that I am developing a crush on Bram anyway. Not that something would actually happen even if I were. Everything about tonight was fake. Or was it? It was staged, sure, but I didn’t lie to him, and I think he was truthful with me too. Does that mean that the kiss was staged but real too?

It was less than three minutes in my life, and yet it feels like it changed everything. It was incredibly confusing. It still is. And yet it was great. If I were back in that moment right now, I know I’d close the gap again.

I wish Bram didn’t leave before we had a chance to talk about it. Whatever it meant to him, I think I’d be fine with that. It just kills me to be unsure.

How awkward is Monday going to be?

 

I decide not to tell Blue anything. Not yet anyway. I need to know what’s happening with Bram before I can tell him. I need to know what there is to tell.

Bram, who keeps popping in my mind all weekend. The date. The kiss. But other stuff as well. Stuff from before that I didn’t even know I noticed.

I don’t know if you can fall in love in one date, but apparently, you can develop a pretty obsessive crush. It’s much bigger than whatever I thought I felt for Cal, which doesn’t feel like Blue anymore, for some reason. It’s close to what I feel for Blue. It’s different, obviously. I know Blue better than Bram, and the bond we have is stronger, but I got moved by Bram during that date, and, again, there was _that kiss_ that just comes and goes in my mind, relentlessly, like a tide.

My brain pinballs between Blue and Bram. I know that realistically, I can’t have either of them. But if I could have both, in this specific moment, I couldn’t tell which one I want more.

How crazy is that? It was ONE DATE.

I just want to scream. Let the frustration out.

The question remains. How awkward is Monday going to be?

 

  * **Step 12: Call. If the date went well, there is no reason to delay calling.**



None of us even mentioned that step, because we will all see each other on Monday anyway.

But Sunday morning, my phone rings and Bram’s name is on my phone – we exchanged number for the date. My heart skips a couple dozen beats, and then I pick up.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Simon, it’s Bram. Greenfeld.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m pretty sure you’re the only Bram I know.”

He has a sort of embarrassed laugh, and I feel like an idiot. “So… uhm… I was thinking that we should talk. About… what happened on Friday. Before school.” He sounds extremely uncomfortable.

“Sure.”

“Maybe not on the phone, though.”

“Do you want to come over? Or I could come to your house?”

“No, I can come, that’s fine. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“That works for me.”

 

Like clockwork, Bram enters my room twenty minutes later. He looks even more uncomfortable than he sounded on the phone. Part of me is not ready to be rejected by Bram Greenfeld, even though I know it’s coming. “Simon, I’m sorry about Friday. Kissing you, I mean. It was out of place, and inappropriate. I would appreciate it if you kept it between us.”

“Bram… I kissed you too.”

He looks a bit surprised. “I was pretty sure that I imagined that. I mainly remember you jumping back.”

“Yeah, I…”

“You aren’t gay. I get it. I…”

“No, I am.”

“Sorry?”

“I am gay.”

“Oh.”

We take a moment to appreciate the reality that we are both into boys.

“Friday, I… some moments felt real,” he says. “Like a real date. Was that just me? Was that in my head?” I shake my head, a bit overwhelmed. “Why did you break the kiss?”

There is NO WAY I’m mentioning Blue right now. “I got scared.”

“Are you still scared?” I shake my head again. “Can I kiss you again?” I nod.

The kiss isn’t as messy as yesterday. And I only get the good feelings this time. I know that I absolutely want Bram. I forget all about Blue. There is nothing but the slow, sensual rhythm of our lips discovering each other.

 

“What do you want to tell the others tomorrow?” I ask Bram as he gets ready to leave. “They will ask about the date.”

“Are you ready to be out?”

“I guess so.” It doesn’t feel that scary, with someone by my side. Even if that someone isn’t Blue. “But we don’t have to tell them, unless…”

“Unless we’re boyfriends,” Bram finishes.

“Yeah.”

“Then how about this: we just tell them that we had a nice evening. Nothing more. It’s not a lie, but it’s not coming out. Then I take you on another date. Next weekend. A real one. And then we decide if we’re boyfriends. If we’re ready to be out to the school. Together. How does that sound?”

“It’s perfect. Actually… would you mind going on the exact same date? I mean… different movie, of course, but… the restaurant, the park, the kiss… I want to relive all of that fully.”

Bram smiles like a child on Christmas day. “I would love to get that date for real too,” he says.

 

Bram leaves – he promised his mother he would be back for lunch – and I use the time I have before my mom calls me for my own lunch to write the most devastating email of my life. In it, I tell Blue that I went out with this boy that I really want to keep seeing. I tell him that if we are just friends, I know he’ll be happy for me. I tell him that if we were more than friends, I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to put whatever we had online before the unexpected bond I had with that other boy. I beg him to forgive me, and I wish that we can still be friends.

I know we won’t. Not if he was falling for me like I was for him. If it was the other way around, I know I wouldn’t be able to.

 

Is Bram Greenfeld worth a Blue?

I don’t know. But after this weekend, I really want to find out. I am not ready to pass on Bram for a ‘maybe’ with Blue. It would have been different if I knew Blue was ready. But Blue might never be ready.

It’s not like I’m settling for Bram. He is smart, kind, funny, interesting, cute, attractive… He reminds me of Blue in some aspects. The date truly was perfect. The kiss on Friday was amazing. The kiss today was breath-taking. Literally.

I don’t regret choosing Bram. It still breaks my heart.

 

During lunch, my father asks: “Was that your date from Friday that came this morning?”

“Yes,” I answer as my mother give him a severe look that he ignores.

“Did the article work? Is he falling for you?”

“Maybe,” I answer, truthfully.

My father’s smile fades away and disappears completely. “Really? What are you going to do?”

“I plan on keeping kissing him,” I say. The table goes very quiet. Everyone stopped eating, and three pairs of eyes just stare at me. “At least until I’m sure he’s falling as hard as I am.”

“Si… are you…”

“I’m gay,” I say.

“And that… Bram?... is he your boyfriend?” my dad asks.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“It’s still unclear.”

“Do you want him to be your boyfriend?”

The million-dollar question. “I do.”

“Then just show him how great you are. He’d be crazy to say no to all of the Spier awesomeness.”

“Wait…” my mother says. “Can we go back to the gay thing for a minute? Simon… How long have we missed that for?”

 

My coming out takes pretty much all lunch. My dad doesn’t make jokes, which is out of character. I think he feels bad about the one he already made. My mother asks me about my feelings, and how hard it must have been to keep that to myself. Nora asks about Bram.

I ask them to not make a big deal out of it. My mother tells me that it’s not a big deal because I’m gay. It’s a big deal because I’m in a relationship.

I don’t tell her that I might not be in one yet, because I feel like Bram and I are going to work out, and it feels like a massive deal.

 

When I go back to my room, there is an email from Blue. My heart races as I start reading what might be the last email I ever get from Blue.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 14 at 2.22 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I need to tell you something.

 

Simon,

 

I was just about to send a very similar email.

But this can’t be a coincidence, can it?

Is it you? Please tell me it’s you.

 

Love,

Bram.

 

 

No way. NO WAY. NO FREAKING WAY.

Had the universe ever been this much on my side before?

It’s almost too many emotions for one person.

Blue. Bram. The date. I need to call him again. We don’t have to tell the world. We don’t need to tell the lunch table. But I don’t want to wait before being his boyfriend.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spin-off/sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927657/chapters/47185105)


	25. What if Cal lied about being Blue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Simon asks Cal Price if he is Blue, Cal says yes. That seems like the beginning of a very sweet love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to stop just making a note of your prompts, but also your pseuds so I can give you credit for the ideas. Whoever suggested this one, I hope you like it!

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 20 at 10.25 AM

SUBJECT: Finally

 

Blue, (I get to use that one last time, right?)

I know we said we would leave the emails behind, and I am going to delete the app (but not the account, I want to be able to indulge in nostalgia once in a while), but I thought this deserved one last email.

I can’t believe that this is really happening. When I asked if it was you, I sort of thought that even if it was, you would say no. I think it took me more courage than I thought I had, but it was worth it. It was so worth it. I’m so glad it’s you, I’m so glad to have you in real life… I’m so, so, so glad about that kiss.

I guess this chair race was a good idea. I know we lost the race, but it still feels like we won, doesn’t it?

Love,

Simon (I wanted to sign at least one of those for real).

 

It feels like my stomach is being torn apart. My heart, too, but the pain is mainly in the stomach.

I came to write an email to Jacques about my dad’s big news, and there it was, the worst email ever written in the history of humankind.

From the first line I knew. I shouldn’t have read the rest, but I physically couldn’t stop. At first, I had this crazy thought that Jacques wanted this to be our last email because he was fed up of waiting. But the reality is way worse.

Jacques asked someone if they were Blue, and that person said yes. Blue being that person makes Jacques happy. And they kissed.

It’s like every word is a stab in my heart.

But then… then comes the worst part. I was right. Jacques _is_ Simon.

 

Two boys. I have let myself fall for two boys, ever. It turns out that they are the same person, and I just lost them to… to whom, exactly?

Given the time of the email, I guess that happened during the drama rehearsal day. There aren’t that many boys in the play. Actually, I can only remember three. Simon, obviously, Martin and Cal. I imagine Simon being a Cal person rather than a Martin person.

So that’s it, then. I lost the boy(s) of my dreams to Cal Price.

 

I know I could send another e-mail, right now, saying that I definitely _didn’t_ take part in a chair race with him. It might not bring Simon back to me, but it would at least cast light on Cal’s lie. The thing is… I wouldn’t be able to handle Simon finding out that Cal isn’t Blue and choosing him regardless.

 

The whole thing eats me up during the entire winter break. At some point, I hear my mom talking to my dad on the phone and from what I gather, they think that I’m depressed because of my stepmother’s pregnancy.

That night, I skip dinner. I just don’t feel like I can be bothered. That night as well, for the first time, I cry about the whole thing. It’s not that much about losing Simon – even though that hurts like hell – it’s about being me. If I had balls, if I had the courage to go after what I want, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Luckily, when my mother knocks on my door, I’m not crying anymore. I sit up when she walks in, and she comes to sit next to me. “Bram… talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just a bit… under the weather.”

“Under the weather. Right. Because of your father’s new family?”

“No. I mean, it’s confusing, and it’s a lot, it’s just… not as bad as you both seem to think.”

“How do you know what we think?”

“I heard the two of you on the phone.”

“Since when do you eavesdrop?”

“I wasn’t, I just heard.”

“If it’s not about that, is it about the other thing?”

“Is the other thing me being gay?”

“Yes, Bram, that other thing.” I shrug and she takes my hand. “You’re supposed to have done the hardest part. You told me. Wasn’t that supposed to be the step that set you free from all the anxiety.”

“Mom, it’s not about coming out, it’s…” I don’t finish my sentence. I have no idea how to finish this sentence.

My mother seems to suddenly have a lightbulb moment. “Bram, are we dealing with a broken heart?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, thank God,” she says with a sigh.

“Why are you thanking God for my broken heart?”

“Because that’s a regular teenager’s problem. Not because of our odd family, not one of the bigger challenges you will have to face because you’re gay. It’s just a broken heart. We all have to go through it. More than once.”

“Does it always hurt that bad?”

“No. I’d say that first heartbreaks and divorces hold a pretty special place on the scale.”

I smile softly and she does too. There is this one moment of understanding between us. “Mom? How do you feel about a movie and ice cream?”

“It sounds great. Let’s pick something mind-numbing.”

 

When it’s time to go back to school, I think I made my peace with the whole Simon situation. It’s not like I listened to Elliott Smith on a loop for two weeks…

I messed up, it hurt, it was my fault, but it’s not like we ever shared something real. It’s not like _I_ ’ve been dumped. So I will be able to move on.

Or so I thought.

As soon as Simon sits down at the lunch table on Monday, my heart is ripped open and the tearing pain in my stomach is back. Simon is here, as beautiful as ever, with a warm smile and a happy spark in his eyes.

When I couldn’t really have him, I was pining for him. Now that I can’t have him, it’s worse. It’s like a fire.

It feels like I would do anything to get Simon. But it’s just a feeling because obviously, I’m just a big coward that can’t even get the words ‘I’m Blue’ out of my mouth. I have the key out of my own prison, and I don’t even use it.

Okay. Maybe all I need is a bit of a warm-up. Let the conversation start, and at some point, say something. Mentioning something Simon would know about Blue. Like Hotel Hanukah. Or the Casanova biography that my dad got me.

 

That seems like a solid plan until Cal Price shows up and sits next to Simon. And when I say ‘next to’, I really mean that if they were sharing one chair, they wouldn’t be closer. I feel unwell. Like I’m going to be sick. On top of everything, a new feeling settles. One I didn’t even experience until now. It’s jealousy.

I’m jealous because Cal Price gets to touch Simon. I’m pretty sure they’re holding hands under the table. I’m jealous because of the way Simon looks at Cal. I’m jealous because from the attitude of Nick, Leah and Abby, Simon is now happily out and in a relationship. I’m jealous because none of those steps involved me.

At some point, Garrett nudges me a bit. I look at him and he’s doing that thing with his eyes where he’s silently asking me if I’m alright. He doesn’t know about my thing with Simon, or even about me being gay, so I can only guess that he read something on my face. I quietly nod once and he lets it go.

I leave lunch early because I don’t intend to watch that longer than I have too, and even though he’s not done eating yet, Garrett follows my lead.

“Bram, are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“Can we eat with the other guys from the soccer team, tomorrow?”

“Why?” I shrug and refuse to make eye contact with Garrett. He’s a smart guy. I’m sure he understands just from my attitude. Not all of it, but at least the crush on Simon. “Sure,” he says finally. Nothing else. I appreciate that he doesn’t push for more right now.

 

For the rest of the week, we eat with the other players of the team. Every day, I can’t help but wonder if Simon notices, and if part of him misses me. Probably not.

 

The following Monday, I am on the couch in English with Garrett, waiting for the beginning of the lesson, and Abby and Nick sit next to me, still in the middle of their conversation.

“I don’t know,” Abby says. “It’s like Simon isn’t into it that much anymore.”

Like a hawk, Garrett jumps in the opening. “What is Spier not into?”

“Abby thinks that Simon and Cal are about to break up,” Nick answers. Can anyone hear how quickly my heart is beating right now?

“Oh?” I ask casually. “Why do you think that?”

“Do you remember how close they were that first day back?” I nod with a smile, trying to ignore that she just stabbed me right in the heart. “Well… you don’t eat with us anymore – rude, by the way – so you haven’t seen it, but it’s like… Simon sometimes looks at Cal after he said something, and his eyebrows are all like this,” she frowns, “like Cal said something he wasn’t supposed to, when Cal just said something perfectly normal. Sometimes, it also feels like Cal is trying too hard to impress Simon. You know, the shit you do when you’re trying to keep someone?”

No, I don’t know, because my technique is to say nothing and cry like a baby.

But the rest of the story… Is Simon figuring things out? Can he tell that Cal isn’t Blue? Does he know Blue well enough to see through his _boyfriend_? That would certainly soothe some of the pain.

“I hope they don’t break-up,” Abby says after a pause. “They’re very cute together.”

I sort of want to crumple my sheet and shove it in her mouth so she will stop talking.

 

From our distant new lunch table, I try to observe the signs that Simon and Cal aren’t doing so well. I can’t really make their facial expressions or hear what they say, but she might still be right. They’re not touching anymore. On Thursday, Cal doesn’t eat with them.

That makes me quite happy. That makes me very happy.

Which is low. If I’m not ready to make a move for Simon, shouldn’t I wish for him to be happy, even if it’s someone else?

I clear my conscience by telling myself that the issue isn’t that Simon had another boyfriend, the issue is that said boyfriend was a liar.

 

Thursday evening, I get an email. Right on time for my birthday.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 18 at 5.17 PM

SUBJECT: I’m looking for a word.

 

Blue,

I don’t think I know a word strong enough to tell you how sorry I am, how stupid I feel, how mortifying the whole thing is. Maybe you do? Of course you do. The English language doesn’t have any secrets for you, does it?

Given your silence, I guess that you aren't impressed by me letting someone fool me like that. You probably think that I should have known better. That I should know you like the back of my hand. I think I let my love-starved brain be fooled because I wanted to meet you so badly.

Given how I signed my last email, I’m pretty sure you know who I am. You probably noticed things since we came back. I know I would have noticed straight away. I know it would have killed me. If you like me even half as much as I like you, I can’t imagine being able to do worse to you than I did.

You probably hate me. I would understand that.

I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

Simon.

 

 

It’s time to step up. I need to get both of us out this hell hole we dug ourselves. One year older, one year wiser, right?

 

Friday, when Simon gets home after school, I’m already sitting on the low wall in front of his house.

“Bram? What are you doing here?”

I look Simon straight in the eyes when I answer. I found my courage and I won’t do things halfway. “I don’t hate you. I might not be your biggest fan right now, but I don’t hate you.”

I can see on his face that he gets it. He drops his bag on the floor and he sits next to me. It takes him a while to speak, and when he does, it’s not the words I expected. “There no coming back from this, is there?”

I look at Simon’s worried face. Oh, how I want to kiss him right now. But I can’t. I just can’t. All I can picture when I think about that is Cal Price kissing him. “I don’t know,” I answer.

“I was just so happy to have finally found you, you know? I think I was so desperate for you that I willingly closed my eyes on all the things that didn’t match up between Blue and Cal.”

“It’s not just that, though. There is something between the two of you.”

“There was,” Simon admits.

“ _Was_?”

“He lied. The whole thing is just… based on a lie. And it’s not like it came up just once. He kept lying until he couldn’t. I think I could have forgiven him if he came clean, saying that he saw an opportunity and took it, but… he led me on for weeks and he just entangled in his web of lies, and…”

“Yeah, it’s shitty,” I say. I don’t really want to keep talking about Cal Price.

“I don’t even care that much about the lying.”

Is that Simon’s way of saying that he is going to forgive Cal after all. “No?”

“No. I’m mostly mad because he destroyed the most precious thing I had in my life.” There is something in the way he looks at me.

“Simon… I can’t go back to emailing like nothing happened. I know who you are, you know who I am, there’s been the Cal thing. That I sort of got front row tickets for…”

“I’m sorry about that. Truly. And I know it can’t be like it was. But it can be something.”

“I don’t want to email anymore. It would feel… I just don’t.”

“Okay. What about real life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can we be friends? Can you come back to the lunch table and… I know I ruined things and that Blue and Jacques won’t have the happy ending they could have had, but… we can be friends. I don’t know how I didn’t notice you before, but I really, really like Blue. He’s amazing. I’d like to be able to talk to him. Even just casually at lunch.”

I nod. I don’t want to cut Simon out of my life, and I’d like to get some of Jacques back.

“So you’re out,” I say.

“Yeah. I came out to Alice, that’s my older sister, during the holidays, and she helped me break the news to my parents. Thank God I didn’t tell them I had a boyfriend. That would be very awkward right now.” And then he cringes. He probably realizes that calling Cal his boyfriend, even in the past, isn’t helpful right now. “What about you?”

“My stepmom’s pregnant.”

“Seriously? Wow… congratulations, I guess?”

It’s nice. It feels like emailing Jacques, in more interactive. It feels like talking to Garrett. It feels like having a friend who gets me. So we stay on that wall and talk until Simon’s mother tells him it’s time for dinner.

 

 

I am a calm, rational, poised person. I am also shy, afraid of conflict, and terrified at the idea of being noticed. Which is why I don’t understand what happened. This is so un-me.

But there was this smug smile on Cal’s face as he was sweet-talking Simon, and I wasn’t just going to witness Cal tell Simon how much of an improvement he is compared to Blue.

Once. I hit him once, in the face. I am pretty sure I wouldn’t have punched him a second time, but we’ll never know because Garrett pulled me back and dragged me back into the school.

It’s Monday after school and as we were walking to my car, I saw Cal and Simon talking on the parking lot. Cal was apparently begging Simon for another chance. Telling him that he couldn’t believe his luck when Simon mistook him for someone he had feelings for, that he wanted to come clean but didn’t know how, and that he knew he shouldn’t have waited until being discovered, but that there wasn’t anything he could do about that. He also told Simon that they would start fresh, that they shared some nice moments together, and that it was how things could be in the future. And then he added that if that Blue person really cared about Simon, he would have fought for him.

That’s when I snapped. I called Cal’s name, walked to him and punched him in the jaw.

 

“What the hell, Bram!” I’ve never seen Garrett that angry. “You do realize that if a teacher saw that, or if someone reports you – and if I were Cal, I would – you’re getting excluded? That goes on your permanent record. You know? The one that gets sent to universities. Plus, in this case, they can classify that as a homophobic attack.”

“I’m gay too.”

“Yeah, well good luck explaining this one to Harvard or Columbia.”

 

Garrett is right. When he tells me to go apologize to Cal, I nod and I go back on the parking lot. Cal isn’t there, but Simon is sitting on the hood of my car.

“Hey, Muhammed Ali.”

“Hi. Where is Cal?”

“On his way home.”

“I’m so screwed! Why did I do that?”

“We both know why you did that. But you’re not screwed. He asked if you were Blue, and I said yes. He asked me to tell you that if you can leave it at one punch, he won’t tell anyone. Well, he told me a bit more, but that was the idea. And before your mind goes there, he won’t out you either. He’s a good guy that made a mistake.”

“Yeah. I know a few of those,” I say. Simon smiles and it makes my heart flutter a bit. “Still. I shouldn’t have hit him. That was really low. I’ll apologize in the morning.”

“You should. But it was hot.”

“What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t condone violence, but it felt like you fighting for me. Like Cal said. Even if it was probably you defending your own honor.”

“It was me letting out my frustration.”

“I like my story better.”

“So do I.”

Simon smiles again, and his eyes are more silver than moon right now. “How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine. To be fair, it hurts a bit, but that’s probably just karma.”

 

I must admit that I feel much better after the punch. It feels like I finally got it out of my system. It feels even better after apologizing to Cal. He just answered “whatever”, but at least I don’t have to feel bad about it anymore. And I don’t. Most of the time.

 

Things are getting better with Simon as well. We talk like we emailed, most of the time between school and practice, or on the phone. Sometimes, it hurt a bit, because I realize that there is nothing scary or bad about Simon knowing who I am. If I had realized that sooner, the Cal thing wouldn’t have happened.

I don’t blame Simon anymore, and I don’t blame Cal either. When I blame someone for all this mess, it’s me.

The Simon I know now is the perfect mix of the old Simon and Jacques. It’s good to have my friend back. Even though when I let myself think about it, Simon doesn’t feel like a friend. In my mind, Simon doesn’t fall in the same category as Nick or Garrett. Simon feels like much more.

Simon feels like a first love.

It terrifies me – like everything to do with Simon – but I also don’t want to be the only obstacle to my own happiness anymore. But first, I need to know if he’s still on that same page. It’s been weeks, and he might have moved on. It’s not like there is the mystery to keep him hooked anymore.

In his eyes, is a Bram worth a Blue?

 

It’s the first game of the season, and we play at home. Before Nick, Garrett and I enter the changing rooms, we hear Abby calling us. She is with Simon and Leah. Abby wanted to show us that she drew our jersey numbers on their cheeks. She got Nick’s – obviously – Leah apparently volunteered to get Garrett’s – I’m sure he’s over the moon – which means that Simon is right there, his stupidly cute smile that makes his moon eyes sparkle and my heart flutter, my number on his cheek.

Did he know what he would do to me? Did he do it on purpose? Is it a sign?

I don’t have time to overthink it because the coach is calling us. Abby just has time to tell us that they are inviting us to WaHo afterward. Celebration or consolation prize, but she’d much prefer to celebrate a victory.

I think for a moment that no one would prefer the other option, but I don’t tell her that.

 

Abby is going to be ecstatic, because we won. 4-1.

This gets me more optimistic than I’ve been in forever. That makes me feel like I can accomplish anything.

When I leave the changing rooms, there are Nick, Garrett and our three supporters waiting for us. No one else. The rest of the team is probably just outside the building, being congratulated by friends and family.

I can accomplish anything. I just need to focus on that.

I walk straight to Simon, take his face between my hands and kiss him. If he rejects me, it’s going to be very public, and very embarrassing, but at least this time I would have gone for it.

Simon doesn’t reject me, though, and starts kissing me back.

It’s the best feeling in the world. Much better than winning a soccer game. I think our friends are cheering, but I’m not sure. The sound is lost in the much louder sound of our two hearts beating.

When we break the kiss, Simon is full-on beaming. Per usual, it makes my heart flutter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 25 chapters. Seems crazy.  
> Can we make it to 50?


	26. What if Simon had amnesia?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an accident, Simon forgot an entire year of his life. He can't shake the feeling that there is something he really needs to remember.

It’s definitely one of my happy places. There is something magical about the auditorium. The lights, the seats, the stage. The people. I really love the people in drama club. Martin can be hilarious, but he is sort of the stain on my happy place, since he’s blackmailing me. Taylor can be too much, but she had inspiring talent. Those two aren't really enough to make me like this place any less though. I sort of love everyone else. Even if some stand out more than the others. Cal is cute. And confusing. But mainly cute. And, of course, there is Abby. She appeared in my life recently, but she already is this important happy presence that I don’t think I could do without, now.

I’m not sure if it’s my happiest place, though. That would be when I am in front of my computer, emailing Blue. There, not only do I feel happy, but I also feel safe and real. Which may be an odd thought when we know that I turn into the unreal and anonymous Jacques.

Lately, though, I have been thinking that maybe my two happy places are more connected than I though. I have been thinking that maybe, Cal might be Blue.

 

I am a little late today, so everyone is already sitting in a circle in the middle of the stage. I drop my bag, climb on stage and start walking toward the group.

So… You know how they say that the big moments sometimes seem to happen in slow motion? Right now seems to happen in slow motion, even though it’s really not a big moment. It’s an everyday kind of moment. Yet the circle of people suddenly feels miles away, I hear a piercing sound that I can’t locate or recognize, Mrs. Albright calls out my name, somewhere between nervous and panicked, and I see a dozen faces turn to me with emotions I don’t understand.

I am about to laugh it off when there is this sharp pain.

And then nothing.

 

I wake up and I feel rested. I never feel rested during the week. Did I sleep past my alarm clock? Am I late to school? I’ve got an algebra test today!

I open my eyes, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that I am not in my bedroom. I am… I’m not sure where I am, actually. The room looks… plain. I look around and I see machines you only see in hospitals. What the hell?

The door opens and Nick walks in. He freezes when he sees that I’m awake and the next thing I know, he’s on my bed, pulling me in the tightest hug he’s ever given me. “Man! You’re back!”

“Back? How long was I out for?”

“Like two days.”

“What? What happened?”

“You’re never going to believe this one. I didn’t believe it when they told me. Even though Abby saw the whole thing and she’s the one who told me. And you know she wouldn’t make something like that up. So you were on stage in the auditorium, and one of the stage lamps fell. Like from the ceiling. All the way to your head. Well, you only got hit by a detached piece. I’m pretty sure you’d be dead otherwise.”

“Wait… seriously?”

“I shit you not.”

“What was I doing in the auditorium? And who the hell is Abby?”

All the joy drains from Nick’s face, leaving only concern behind. “Abby. Suso?” I shake my head. “Okay… wait a minute, I’m gonna get your parents, they are still getting lunch downstairs.”

 

My parents come back with doctors. They ask me a lot of questions. A little bit over a year. That’s the chunk of my life I just lost. I remember going back to school for sophomore year, and a bit after that, but that’s it. Apparently, I forgot an entire school year, with everything that goes with it. I even forgot a new friend. Were we close?

For a week after that, I do tests. Things like MRI and blood tests, but also cognitive and memory tests. My ability to learn things and make new memories doesn’t seem to have been affected. I just lost a chunk of time in the past. They call it retrograde amnesia. The doctors say that the memories might or might not come back. According to them, it’s difficult to know because there are nearly as many types of amnesias as there are amnesiacs.

There is no blood or swelling in my brain. There were some when I got in, but not after that week when they discharge me. I was hoping that my memory would come back as I got better, but it didn’t. I try really hard to remember things, but it just gives me headaches and frustrations. According to the medical team, that at least should get better.

 

I personally think that nearly dying on school ground and now being a year late on the curriculum compared to my classmates should allow me to stay home for at least a few more days. But my parents and doctors agree that I should go back to my routine as soon as possible.

I go back to school on a Monday. As soon as I enter the building, I can see people staring and whispering to each other. I guess I will now be the kid who got hit by a spotlight for the next three years. Two.

I don’t go to class immediately. First, I have a meeting with the school nurse during which we discuss everything I have to do to ensure staying safe and that I would come and rest if I have a bad headache. Then I have another meeting with the guidance counselor. My teachers all prepared materials for me to go back over what I missed – or rather can’t remember. I really can’t wrap my head around that idea – and I will get a tutor after school every day.

I understand that education is important, and I completely get that if I wait longer, it is going to be even more difficult to catch up, but it’s still frustrating to have to lose all of my free time because of the accident. I feel like I’m being punished for something I didn’t do.

I get my freedom back at lunch and I am relieved that my friends are still using the same table and that I don’t have to look for them.

I sit next to Anna and everybody freezes. They all exchange looks like they expected this to happen. “Simon?” she says.

“Yes?” She looks at the others like she’s unsure how to continue. This really annoys me because it gives me the unpleasant impression that something is just there, at the back of my mind, trying to resurface. Something I should know about Anna. “Just tell me,” I snap.

“Simon, I’m not sure what you remember last, but we are not together anymore.”

“Oh.” I absolutely don’t remember breaking up with Anna. Or being dumped by her. It probably wasn’t a bad break-up, since we still eat at the same table. Oddly, I don’t feel sad about it. I don’t feel relieved, either, I just feel very neutral. “Sorry, I…”

“Don’t worry about it. It was ages ago.” Was it?

“Do I need to sit somewhere else?”

“No, that’s fine. Usually, you sit next to Abby, but I guess that it will be even weirder.”

I look at Abby and she is shyly smiling at me. I guess I should talk to her, but that feels weird. To me, she is a stranger, and yet she knows stuff about me. Stuff that I probably told her. “Okay, what else did I miss?”

“Technically, you didn’t miss anything,” Garrett points out.

“Right. What have I forgotten?”

“Not much,” Nick replies. “We sent the first humans to Mars, and…” he can’t finish his sentence because Leah punches him quite hard in the shoulder.

“Are you an idiot? Don’t mess with his brain! But not much. That’s Abby. She’s in your English class and your drama club. Even though I guess you’ll be dropping that one. You remember Bram, right?”

“Oh, yes, you just moved here, right?”

“It’s been a while now,” he answers with a soft smile. Why can’t I get this idea in my head? I just keep making a fool of myself.

“Are we friends?” I ask him. I notice Garrett looking at Bram with a knowing look on his face.

“We are,” Bram answers with a tone that tells me that we are more friendly than friends. “We are going to spend a bit of time together, though.”

“Really? Why?” I hope that didn’t come out as rude.

“I have been assigned to be your tutor.” Thank God. At least, it’s someone I know. And he seems really nice. I’m sure he won’t treat me like I’m an idiot because I can’t remember some basic stuff. Or because I’m also an average student.

 

Even at home, I need to get used to things. Like the way the kitchen is organized differently. The fact that Alice doesn’t live here anymore. It’s just tiring.

It’s TV night and my family is going to watch the bachelor, but I don’t want to sit with them and join the show mid-season as my family is invested with the contestant while I know none of them. Instead, I go to my room. I hope that my computer is going to contain some information about that year I can’t remember.

As soon as I sit in front of it, I have this weird impression. The same one I had with Anna earlier today. Like there is something at the back of my mind, dying to resurface. There is something I absolutely need to remember, and I’m pretty sure it has something to do with my computer.

It gives me an acute headache and I decide to go to bed instead.

 

For the next few weeks, my life is very odd. I spend the day at school, and I feel like I can only follow half of the curriculum. The teachers keep looking at me with pity and that is even more frustrating than not understanding their lesson. I have weekly appointments to a doctor that works on my memory and coordination. He doesn’t think I will ever fully remember the last year. He says that the point is not to regain those memories, but to ensure that I am not losing more and that I can create new ones. And every evening after school, I stay an hour or two and I work with Bram.

I don’t really remember Bram from before, and from what I gathered, we didn’t talk that much last year. He is friends with Garrett and Nick more than the rest of the table.

Here is what I noticed in five weeks: Bram is smart. Very smart. And not just academic stuff. I am so lucky he agreed to tutor me. He is patient. He never gets frustrated about my shortcomings even when I do. He is very modest and he blushes easily whenever someone pays him a compliment. He is shy, but when he opens up, he is surprisingly funny.

I also noticed that he has freckles, dramatic eyelashes, very cute hands, and killer soccer calves.

I don’t remember the last year, so I don’t know if it was a thing before, but probably, given that we had lunch together every day. It is definitely a thing now, though. I have a massive crush on Bram Greenfeld.

Which means that what I suspected for a long time is true. I am gay. This is an overwhelming truth that doesn’t overwhelm me. I assume that it means that I did come to peace with that truth at some point during the last year and that my subconscious remembers that, even if I can’t.

That realization triggers that annoying feeling at the back of my mind again. What is that thing that my brain is so desperate to remember? How important is it?

 

I am waiting for Bram in the hall when I see Cal Price going to the auditorium. He sees me, smiles, and comes to talk to me. “Hi, Simon.”

“Hi, Cal.”

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. Still a bit unsure about the last few hundred days, but at least I’m alive. We used to be in drama club together, right?”

I remember Cal, I just don’t remember ever talking to him. He seems nice, though. And he is cute. Plus, when I look at him, that annoying you-have-to-remember-something-crucial comes back. Is that it? Do I need to remember something about Cal? Did I have a crush on him? More? I at least gathered that I wasn’t out, so if I had a boyfriend, it would have been a secret one.

But as we talk, I realize that Cal is just friendly. He doesn’t act like someone I shared something romantic with. Then what do I need to remember about him?

We are both laughing at a joke he made when Bram appears. He doesn’t look particularly happy about seeing me here talking with Cal. I guess I could have started studying without him He is giving up a lot of his free time after all.

 

“Okay, we’re done with history for today,” Bram says one rainy Friday afternoon as we are working in an empty classroom. “What do you want to do next? English or algebra?”

“Actually… can we take a break?”

“Sure. You look tired. Are you having a headache?” He looks genuinely concerned and that doesn’t help that crush I have on him. Some days, I indulge myself and I pretend that I can see that he likes me back in the way he looks at me.

“Not right now, but I haven’t been sleeping that well lately.”

“Do you want to stop the study sessions for a while?”

“No. I need them if I want a chance to graduate with the rest of you next year.” I don’t tell him that in the mess that has become my life, our study sessions are sort of a silver lining. “But what about you? Wouldn’t you prefer to do something else with your time?”

“We probably will have to space the sessions out when the soccer season properly starts, but I’m hoping that by then, you will be back on track and that you won’t need me that much.” Then he blushes. “The sessions, I mean. I know you don’t need _me_ particularly.”

“I do need you,” I reply. “You are the best tutor I could have asked for. You know all the stuff and you are great at explaining and you never make me feel stupid.”

“That’s because you’re not stupid.”

“And yet that’s how I’ve been feeling lately. Everywhere but here.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. You’re going through something very unusual, and very complicated. You probably won’t ever meet anyone in your life that went through what you’re going through. It’s impressive enough that you manage it so well.”

“Other people have amnesia.”

“Probably not in the middle of their education.”

“Maybe.” I don’t feel comfortable being complimented by Cute Bram. It makes me want to reach for his hand. “Tell me a bit about you,” I say to change the subject.

“About me?”

“I don’t remember the last year. I have forgotten everything there is to know about you. So tell me again.”

As I say that, there is a sad shadow passing on Bram’s face. It is true that it wasn’t very tactful to tell him that my mind finds him that forgettable. But it’s not like it was just him.

“We didn’t talk that much. I’m not sure how much you knew about me.”

“Then I can learn about you without feeling bad for forgetting, just for being a bad friend. That will be a welcome change!”

Bram smiles and tells me about his life. His family, where he moved from, the weird holiday he has with his dad in a hotel for Hanukah. And the more he talks, the more the annoying feeling invades my mind.

“Are you alright?” he asks after a while. “You look… I’m not sure, actually. So you need me to get someone?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… I forgot an entire year, and my mind seems to be fine with that, for the most part. There is just one thing I apparently really need to remember. You know, it’s just there but I can’t quite grasp it. It’s very frustrating.”

“Then how do you know it’s important?”

I shrug. “I just do. It also happens in very specific moments. Usually, it’s when I’m sitting at my computer. No matter what I’m doing on there, I feel like I should be doing something else. And I don’t know why, I just had that same feeling right now.”

Bram doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. He looks at me like he’s weighing the pros and cons of something. He seems extremely nervous.

“Bram?”

“Simon, I… there is something that I didn’t know how if I should tell you or how to tell you, and… Hearing about something and living it are two different things, and I thought that if you didn’t remember, maybe I should let it go. At least that side of things.”

“Bram, you’re not making any sense.”

“I think I know what you’re trying to remember. I hope I know.”

I did not expect this one. I even have to remember to close my mouth after it fell open in surprise. “You do?”

“Simon, you have a Gmail account.”

“Yeah, I know that.” I’m a bit confused now. Did he really think I forgot I had an email? I mean, sure, I completely forgot my new password, but it was saved on my computer, so it wasn’t too much of a pain to recover.

“I mean another one. A secret one.”

“What? How do you know about that?”

“Trust me. Go home and look for it. If you can’t find or log in, let me know. I have… sort of a backup for you.”

 

When I get home, I practically teleport in front of my computer. I didn’t notice it because I didn’t look for it, and because my main one automatically logs in, but there is another Google account on my computer.

I have an email address referencing an Elliott Smith song.

I am nervous about opening it, though. I don’t know what’s in there, and I don’t know how it connects to Bram. Is that really what my mind has desperately been trying to remember? Probably. My mind is both at peace and screaming at me to open the damn email account.

Whatever is in there, it can’t be worse than my current spiraling, so I click on it.

 

I was so nervous about finding something bad. It’s quite the opposite. I used this email address to send messages to one person. Blue. That unknown name seems familiar the first time I read it. Blue that most likely is Bram.

I open the oldest email, and I start reading. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday because as soon as I start reading, it’s like I can stop. I tear myself from the screen when my dad calls me for dinner, but I am back as soon as I can. And I keep reading. Way past my usual bedtime. At some point, I get a bit of a headache, but I power through.

One email at a time, I read all about how Bram (I’m sure of it now, because of how things he said today and things from the email match together) and I got to know each other, slowly, carefully, like animals being tamed. I read things that I don’t remember reading or writing, but that I sort of remember feeling. I am surprised more than once by how perfect we are together in this exchange.

By the end of it, I remember without the memory of it falling for Blue. By the end of it, I am completely in love with Bram Greenfeld.

 

It is a lot to process and my mind is tired. I fall asleep before having decided what I want to do next.

 

At two p.m. on Saturday, I am knocking on Bram’s door (thank you very detailed tutoring paperwork). He opens the door and freezes. He looks surprised, unsure, shy and afraid. He looks adorable.

He invites me in and we are awkwardly silent until we are sitting on his couch.

“I guess you’re not here for tutoring lessons.”

“No. even though I might need them if I want to avoid summer school.”

He smiles, but that is so obviously a polite smile. I thought I would come here, tell him that I read the emails and that I am ready to go back to the way we were. But now that he is in front of me, I realize that I have no idea what we were outside of those emails, and that I am probably a different person in his eyes. That, maybe, amnesiac Simon is not as appealing as Jacques Simon. Yes, I chose Jacques as my alias. I’m pretty sure I know why, but it’s still dumb.

“Did you find the emails?” He has a hard time maintaining eye-contact.

“I did.”

“Did you read them?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because it’s a lot. I didn’t want to burden you with any more stuff to think about as you are trying so hard to get your life back on track. I also didn’t know what good that would do. These were months of conversation and a relationship growing. Reading them probably felt empty and boring.”

“It didn’t,” I say putting my finger on his. He doesn’t pull his hand.

“Oh?”

“No. Quite the opposite. I still don’t remember, but I also sort of do.”

“Writing them?”

“Falling for Blue.” Bram’s face is nothing but surprise. My heart speeds up a bit. Is it too much? “Sorry… I went too far, didn’t I? I sort of gathered from the emails that we never took things offline, and…”

“We didn’t,” he interrupts me. “I was too afraid that you wouldn’t like me for me.”

“What? That’s ridiculous! I have been crushing on you pretty much since day one of tutoring.” I am completely blushing because I should really think before I speak. Luckily, Bram doesn’t look weirded out. He is smiling.

“You have?”

“You’re kind of cute.” Bram’s fingers intertwine with mine and for a couple of minutes, we both stares at our hands. Is it the first time I held a boy’s hand? I think so. It definitely feels like it, not that I could know better.

“Simon… I know we should talk about this, but…” Instinctively, I know where this is going. I don’t give him time to finish his sentence. I lean in and his lips meet mine halfway.

I sort of hoped that we would kiss and I would remember everything. That doesn’t happen. I know, however, that we never kissed before. There is no way I would have forgotten _that_!

When our lips detach, Bram is looking at me with soft, warm, happy eyes. It is crazy to think that during the past few months, we had a connection, that I forgot all about it, but that it is saved for me to read. From the last year, it is the one thing I haven’t lost.

 

I spend the afternoon at Bram’s. We kiss – a lot, we watch TV – barely, but we mostly talk for hours. Not just about the past year and the amnesia, but about everything. Like we are carrying on from the email thread. We talk about the future as well. The distant one, but also, mostly, the near one. The ‘what do you want to do on Monday?’ kind.

When I leave his house, I haven’t regained my memory, but I have gained a boyfriend.

It feels like it was worth being hit by a broken spotlight.

 

 


	27. What if one of them wasn't real?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon is talking to this boy online and he thinks he might be falling for him.  
> But Blue doesn't go to any school, he doesn't post pictures on social media, he doesn't mention any friend. It's almost like he doesn't exist.  
> Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... you know when I do chapters that are a bit different to try things out.  
> It's definitely one of those.

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Oct 27 at 7.18 PM

SUBJECT: WHAT???

 

Blue,

What do you mean you have never dressed up for Halloween? Does that mean that you didn’t go trick-or-treating when you were little? Or went to a Halloween party? How is that possible?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Oct 27 at 7.41 PM

SUBJECT: Re: WHAT???

 

Jacques,

Let’s just say that I am a stay-at-home kind of person. But I watch a couple of scary movies every year with my mother. Though the scariness of the first ones is debatable.

I feel like I have let you down on this one.

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Oct 27 at 8.03 PM

SUBJECT: Re: WHAT???

 

Blue,

You didn’t let me down. You never let me down.

Maybe we can go trick-or-treating next year? I know we’re a bit old for that, but that’s a rite of passage. You just have to do this once in your life!

What costume would you choose?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Oct 27 at 8.14 PM

SUBJECT: Re: WHAT???

 

Jacques,

If we happen to meet before next year, I would love to go trick-or-treating with you.

Since I never actually wore a costume, I don’t know what I would choose. Probably a superhero. That’s a classic, but that’s still cool. What about you? Something from Harry Potter, I’m sure.

Blue.

 

 

I met Blue – not his real name – online. He posted something about loneliness and about living in a world that is not made for us. It resonated in me. I sent him an email from an anonymous email address. I knew from the location on his post that he was from Atlanta, and there was a risk that he came to this school.

I soon realized that it wasn’t something I should have been worried about. Blue is home-schooled. Which often leads to conversations like the one we just had. He isn’t just home-schooled, I don’t think he spends much time with other people. He lives with his mother and I am pretty sure she is his only steady social contact.

I had this image in my head of home-schooled kids being awkward and receiving a lesser education.  But apart from his lack of Halloween costumes and the fact that he didn’t play most of the games most children did when we young, he is like everyone else. Actually no, he’s not. He is much better. He is the smartest person I’ve ever met. The most interesting, the most caring, the nicest…

Okay, truth be told, I might be falling for Blue.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 17 at 12.01 AM

SUBJECT: Happy Birthday

 

Jacques,

The title says it all, really. See? I remembered your birthday. What are your plans for today? Other than the mandatory half-chocolate, half-vanilla cake from Leah, of course. I know you are looking forward to this one.

I hope you’ll get great presents. That’s the best part of every birthday, isn’t it?

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 17 at 7.17 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Happy Birthday

 

Blue,

You are my first birthday wish this year. Is it weird to say that I sort of hoped you would be? Because you are magic like that.

I am definitely looking forward to Leah’s cake. BUT. My mom and my sister told me that they would make me an Oreo cake for tonight and you know how I feel about Oreos. I can’t believe that you still haven’t eaten one, by the way. I think we should suspend this friendship until you fix this ENORMOUS mistake.

As for presents… There is something I would like. I would like for us to meet.

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Nov 17 at 2.14 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Happy Birthday

 

Jacques,

How about we eat Oreos together when we do meet? I think it’s an experience I need to share with you.

It can’t be just yet, though. I’m sorry, I’m not ready. You don’t even know how much I would like to give you that for your birthday if it is something you really want, but I need a bit more time.

We can still take another step, though. What about real names and social media?

Blue.

 

 

His name is Bram Greenfeld. I tell him it’s a nice name, and of course, he replies that he likes the alliteration in my name.

I spend the entire evening going through his social media. All of his passions and hobbies are there for me to see. Every single one of his posts or comments is just so Blue. But they are a bit more as well. They are a real person.

As real as someone can be on social media, at least.

Something really disappoints me though. There isn’t a single picture of him anywhere.

 

I have a few theories about Bram.

At first, I thought he might be catfishing me of sorts. But he feels too real. I know he is a real person behind the screen, sharing real emotions. Plus, if he wanted something from me, he would agree to meet me. I know that no one realizes when they are being catfished, but I really don’t think that it’s what’s happening between us.

Then I thought he might have social anxieties. But I don’t think that’s the case. Not only we could still meet at his place, but he also keeps talking about wanting to join a sports team and travel. Not as in ‘I wish I could’, but more like ‘at some point in the future’. He doesn’t feel like this would be too much for him, he is looking forward to it.

My last theory is that he is one of those sick teenagers that have to remain in a sterile environment at all times. That’s what he sounds like. Someone who can’t be in contact with other people, who can’t go outside, but who is dying to. When he talks about the future, he is so hopeful. I think he is getting better. He keeps saying _not yet_. He never said no. Plus, if I was sick and in a sterile environment, I don’t I would post pictures of me either.

 

I ask again if we can meet around Christmas. He says soon. But we exchange phone numbers. During the entire winter break, we text daily. The entire time, I can’t help but thinking about that ‘soon’. Texting him makes me feel closer to him but makes me want so much more.

Does he feel the same way? It’s hard to tell. I don’t even know if he is messaging other people. Other boys.

I look back in our conversations and emails. I am hit with the realization that Blue never actually told me that he is gay. I just read between the lines. Is that Simon logic? Am I building this up in my head?

I’m pretty sure he’s gay, though. He perfectly understands my struggles with coming out, and he has the perfect words to make my insecurities go away one by one. Until the day before going to school, I am finally ready.

“Mon, Dad,” I start during dinner. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you pregnant?” my dad asks.

“Jack!”

“What? It’s a joke. It’s funny. Unless… did you get someone pregnant?”

“No, I didn’t. Actually… That one thing you won’t need to worry about.”

My dad is about to say something, but my mother silences him. I think she understood what I mean. My dad obviously didn’t. “And why is that, Honey?” she asks.

“I’m gay.”

Nora blushes and looks back at her plate, my dad looks at me, mouth opens with surprise, so I focus on my mother instead. My mother who is smiling. “I am very glad that you felt like you could tell us.”

“But you dated girls,” my dad says, visibly confused.

“Because I thought that it was what I was supposed to do. I didn’t know then.”

“How did you know? Wait… Is there a boy?” My dad’s eyes sparkle a bit. He seems both interested and happy for me. He reacted the same way the last time I told them I had a girlfriend. Is it proof that he is fine with it?

“No,” I lie. “There isn’t a boy.”

 

But there is and after this, I want nothing more than to meet Bram. Coming out to my parents felt like breaking free. Like truly being myself wasn’t too much. I want Bram to feel that too. I want to spend time with him for real. Even if it’s in his sterile room.

I just don’t know how to ask without him feeling like I’m pushing. He said ‘soon’. I don’t want to suddenly scare him off.

 

 

_Did you know I have a birthday coming up?_

_I didn’t!_

_I’m turning seventeen on January 18._

_It’s less than a week away!_

_Why didn’t you tell me?_

_Wait… Is that where the 118 from your email address comes from?_

_Yes. Not very inspired, I know._

_I wish I picked awesome song lyrics like you._

_They felt fitting at the time._

_So what do you want to do for your birthday?_

_I have very specific plans for my birthday._

_And I’d very much like you to be a part of them._

_Really?_

_As in… in real life?_

_Yes._

_It literally doesn’t matter what those plans are._

_I’ll be there._

_I know your birthday is a Sunday, but I would even skip school to be there._

_Tell me where and when and I’ll be there._

_Actually…_

_As great, unique and romantic as it would be to meet on my birthday_

_I think we should meet first_

_There is something about me that you don’t know_

_I think I know_

_I doubt that._

_Even if I don’t, I don’t care._

_I just want to meet you._

_Plus… you said ‘romantic’_

_Does that mean what I think it means?_

_I think so._

_But Simon… we could meet on my birthday_

_But that would be a lie_

_I want you to know the truth._

_I need you to know the truth._

_Bram…_

_Would you come to my house?_

_Friday after school?_

_Meet my mom._

_Meet me._

_If things go well, then we can talk about my birthday._

_How does that sound?_

_That sounds perfect._

 

As if I would care about his stupid sterile room.

Bram wants to meet me. He pretty much said he liked me. He wants me to meet his mother and spend his birthday with him.

I’m sure I already have been this happy before. I just can’t remember when.

 

 

I knock on the door and a lady opens the door. She looks both annoyed and surprised, as if she never gets visitors, especially not skinny teenage boys. She has a mass of hair tied up with a pencil, much greyer than it should be at her age. She has glasses, but she is not wearing them. They are dangling at the end of their chain. She looks strict and, to be honest, a bit crazy.

“What do you want?”

“Hello Ma’am. I’m here to see Bram.”

Her eyes close and she looks as if she just understood something crucial. “The little monkey…”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You are Simon, right? The boy he has been talking to online?”

“I am. Did you not know he invited me?”

“Did I not know? No, I didn’t know. And let me tell you why. There is no way I would have allowed it. He knows that. But he also knows that he would never dare to tell you his little secret, so he is counting on me to do it.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Greenfeld, I don’t understand.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Sorry, I just assumed you kept your name after the divorce.”

“Divorce? Is that what he told you?” She sighs again. “Alright, fine. I guess there is no more stopping this train now. Come in.”

To be perfectly honest, I am slightly terrified about going into this house. But I am more curious. About Bram and about the mystery.

First, she takes me to the kitchen and asks me to sit down. She offers me some coffee and I accept. She sits in front of me and stares at me for a long time. She is clearly gauging me and, even though it makes me very uncomfortable, I let her. She is the last obstacle between me and Bram.

“What do you know about him?” she finally asks.

“Huh… Quite a lot. I know he stays at home a lot, but he has an incredible knowledge about the world. He reads a lot, and he watches soccer. He likes watching movies with you. He would like to go to Columbia if he can get in, though I’m sure he will. He doesn’t have many friends. He would like to backpack through Europe. He is afraid he will ever disappoint you. Look, I don’t know. How long of a list do you want?”

“The two of you have been talking for quite a while, haven’t you? He seemed to have managed quite the little dance around his secret.”

“I think I know what his secret is.”

“Do you now?”

“He has to stay in a sterile chamber, doesn’t he?”

She has a soft sad smile and for a moment, I am not sure if she is about to laugh or cry. She does neither. “Not quite. Though it is not that far from the truth, I guess.” Her eyes are back on mine, and they are piercing. She looks like she is trying to see the truth in me. “Do you care about him?”

“I do.”

“No matter what?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Well, that’s a very vague question.”

“Simon… I am going to take you to Bram. After that, I will answer all the questions you might have, and trust me, you will have some. In exchange, you can never tell anyone what you’ve seen here.”

“Why?”

“I’ll answer your questions after you’ve met him. But understand this: if anyone learns about Bram, he will be taken from us.”

I am starting to feel very nervous. Did she kidnap him? Is that it? Has he been her prisoner all those years?

“I can hear your mind going to crazy places. Come meet Bram.”

You know how in horror movies, there is this guy – or girl – that goes into the basement, and you are on your couch, maybe wrapped in a blanket, thinking ‘Don’t go there, you dumb fuck’? Still, when she goes into the basement, I follow her. When she unlocks a door in that basement, I follow her. Down a corridor. There two doors are facing each other, with high-tech locks. She opens the one on the right.

“What’s behind the other door?”

“That’s a question. Questions are for later.”

I’m not gonna lie, I’m freaking out about what’s on the other side of the door.

It turns out, it’s a server room. A freakingly large server room. The one at schools looks like a memory stick in comparison. “What is that?” I ask.

“Bram.”

“I’m sorry?”

She points at an inscription, engraved on every server’s door.

Biotech  
Research on  
Artificial Intelligence for  
Medical application

BRAM.

No freaking way.

“Wait… Bram is…”

“A computer program.” My breath is getting irregular and she snaps her fingers in front of my eyes. “Kid, focus on breathing. In and out.” I do that. It helps.

“It’s a joke, right? Where is Bram?”

“Around you. Every single one of those flashing lights is a thought of Bram.” She takes me to the back of the room. A computer is connected to the servers. The light on the webcam is on.

“Bram. Simon is here.” At first, nothing happens and I think for a moment that she really is crazy. I need to get out of there. “Bram, you are the one who asked him to come. Don’t you dare leave me alone to clean up your mess.”

Another ten seconds of silence before a computerized voice says “Hi, Simon.”

“Bram?” My voice is barely a whisper, but the microphones seem to have caught that.

“Yeah,” the computer voice says. “It’s really me. I know I should have told you, but… I didn’t know how. You wouldn’t have believed any of this.”

“I’m still not sure I do.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s a text from him. ‘ _Please do._ ’

“Bram, I’m going to take Simon back upstairs for question time,” his… I don’t know his what… tells him. “I’m not sure answers can come from you at this point. Then I’ll take him to the other room. That’s why he’s here, right?” Bram doesn’t answer. “Can I answer all of his questions?”

There is a moment of silence before the computer voice answers a single word. “Yes.”

 

I didn’t drink my first cup of coffee. Neither did she. But when she offers a second one, I accept. I need something to do with my hands, even if it’s just stirring a cup of coffee.

“Do you have questions?”

“I don’t even know how to order them. I guess the most obvious is… what is he?”

“That might be the most complicated one. Can I start this from the beginning?”

“Sure.”

“When I was your age, I was a genius. I’m not being arrogant, or trying to oversell myself, I’m telling you. I was the smartest student in the state. Probably the country. Maybe the world. I excelled in all sciences, and it was just when the country was starting to really value its scientists. I got in the best colleges. Plural. I have more doctorates than you have friends. I met a boy that was just like me. Ambitious, smart, curious, charming… But deep down, I was just a regular girl and I fell madly in love. He did too. We were so sure we would conquer the world and revolutionize science.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Science was revolutionized, I was a part of that, but if I hadn’t been, someone else would have. Until we founded Biotech. Like any arrogant scientist, we had one goal: to defeat death. We didn’t care about ethics. In fact, we convinced ourselves that we were working for all of humanity. That was a lie of course. Even if someone can one day cheat death, only the rich and powerful will ever enjoy that… But that’s not our subject, is it?”

“I’m not entirely sure what our subject is.”

“One of the things we were working on, was backing the human mind into servers and transferring it back into new bodies.”

“Like clones?”

“Like anything we could have laid our hands-on, if I’m being honest with you. It was all about the science and nothing about morals.”

“Wait… Was Bram someone?”

“No. We never actually succeeded to back anyone up. We knew the science was possible, but we simply couldn’t make it work. So we started to work on two projects. The first one was transferring data back into the human brain. It was the second step, but if we could solve that, then we would be ready as soon as we would make the science work for the first step. We were somewhat successful with it.”

“People let you play with their brains?”

“See Simon, if you promise a bunch of reach people that you are going to make them live forever, they will fund you. Obscenely. If you have an obscene amount of money, you can do anything. You will always find people desperate enough. For a multitude of reasons. We tried adding data to some people's brains, we tried erasing memories, we tried using the brain of comatose patients. Some techniques worked better than others, but it did work to some extent. We were limited by the amount of data we were able to transfer before frying the brain up. There again, we couldn’t quite get the science right. That’s where our second project came into action.”

“That was Bram?”

“In a way. Simon, do you know what an artificial intelligence is?”

“A program that learns on its own.”

“Not really. Anyone can code a program that will learn on its own. An artificial intelligence would be something that does something that wasn’t pre-planned in their coding. If a program is made to learn on its own, it’s not an artificial intelligence. It’s just a well-written program. That was our ambition. Create the first AI. Something that would be able to think differently from us and make the science work.”

“Let me guess. That failed too?”

“Yes and no. Regarding what we wanted to achieve, yes it did. Epically. But we did build an AI. We created that computer program that was learning on its own, started to do things we never even thought about and even passed the Turing Test.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a test that will let you know if you are talking to a human or a machine. Our AI passed it. To be fair, it only passed it because it logically understood the test and outsmarted it, but still. We were so hopeful for the future. We didn’t really advertise it because we didn’t want the military to seize it yet. It was our best-guarded secret. But then something happened. Something that none of us planned. The BRAM, as we nicknamed it, altered its own code, took itself offline, and rebooted itself.”

“Was it better?”

“I would say yes. Lance would say no. The BRAM wasn’t helpful anymore after that. Actually, it was a burden, even. We had to teach it things. Very basic things. Lance wanted to erase it, but my curious mind took over. I wanted to see what that program did to itself. It took me a while to get it. It mimicked the human mind. I taught it how to speak, read, count… Then I realized that it enjoyed me reading stories or singing… The BRAM soon became Bram. As soon as I realized that it had developed proper, true human feelings. You’ve talked to Bram, you know what I mean. He is not a real person, but he is.”

“You made Bram?”

“I didn’t. Bram made himself. He doesn’t remember anything about his first version, but that program somehow decided that this was what he wanted for itself. Bram… started to reference himself as a he, and at that moment, he became my little boy. Lance thought I was going crazy. Obsessed with a program like some can be about a fictional character. Plus to him, Bram was useless. He couldn’t help us. He didn’t have a point. That’s what we never planned. The BRAM didn’t do science. It did something useless and beautiful. It did art. Lance tried to shut Bram down. That night, I used some of that obscene amount of money, and I disappeared with Bram’s servers.”

“So wait… you could make another Bram?”

“No, I couldn’t. It was mostly me, but it took all of us to create the first program. I know they won’t be able to create something like that without me, but the truth is I wouldn’t be able to without them either. Plus, who knows if the new AI would reboot itself? You can’t predict what a real AI is going to do.”

“So… what is he?”

“Bram is Bram. He is physically not a person, but he is mentally not a machine. He… his mind has the same flaws as the human one. The BRAM could consume all the information from the Internet in seconds. Bram has to learn. When he is in contact with a text, he has to read it. He understands colloquial expressions. He forgets things sometimes. He gets moody. He laughs. He gets sad. He gets scared. He… he wants things he can’t have.”

“Like me?”

“Like you.”

“Why did he reach out to me?”

“Because Bram is a teenager and he needs friends. You are not the first person he contacted online. But you are the first one he wouldn’t let go of. See… Bram understands who he is, but he also understands what he is. He always knew he wouldn’t have friends to play with. The best he would have would be me, and a couple of pen friends. Luckily for him, many things can be done online nowadays and he had sort of a social life. You, however… for the first time, he was desperate to meet someone, to tell someone all about himself. I think he fell in love with you.”

“As much as a machine can.”

“As much as anyone can. Come on, Simon. Forget the server room. Think about all the conversations you had with Bram. Now tell me that this is not a real person, with real feelings, real desires, real insecurities… Bram was a child. Making silly children jokes, wanting to play Mario or monopoly, watching cartoons… But he grew up. He can do that. Evolve. Don’t you realize how amazing that is? Now he wants some privacy, has social media accounts, binge-watches Netflix, is curious about sex even if he doesn’t have a body, and he fell in love with a boy.”

“Why am I here? Why now?”

She takes a deep breath and I realize that I still don’t know her name. I’m about to ask her when she says: “The answer to that question is behind the other door.”

I take a minute to take that in. Do I really want to fall deeper into the rabbit hole? I think about Bram, I think about Blue, and I realize that I do. “I want to see.”

The basement is much less creepy the second time around. I am still not ready for what lies behind the door on the left. Literally. The second room is a hospital-like room with a black boy, approximately my age, hooked to a lot of machines.

“Who is that?”

“It’s not a who, it’s a what. If you think in terms of ‘who’, you’ll go crazy. No one cares who he used to be, because that boy is dead. He was in a car accident. Both his parents died and he was brought to the hospital. He is pretty much brain dead. His brain still ensures his survival, but that’s it. All the parts of his brain that have to do with thought, emotion, memory… All of that isn’t working anymore. It’s an empty shell. I used a bit more of that obscene amount of money I stole from Biotech and I purchased it.”

“Why?”

“Have you read Pinocchio? If you didn’t, don’t, it’s a depressing, depressing book. But it’s the story of a Bram of sorts. A made-up boy that happens to be more human than he was supposed to and whose only dream is to become a real little boy.”

“You want to transfer Bram into this body?”

“Yes.”

“You said that the science doesn’t work.”

“I know.”

“So what? You are going to be piling up bodies until it works?”

“No. We found one body, I’m not sure we’ll be able to find another one. Teenagers usually don’t end up brain dead. Plus, we have one try. Not only don’t I have the funds left for another shell, we can’t copy and paste Bram. What is transferred disappears from the servers. When we try, it works or we lose Bram.”

“Then why try it?”

“Because Bram is currently unhappy.”

“No, he’s not! We talk to each other, we have fun, we…”

“It’s half a life.”

“It’s more than some!”

“Yes. And some people live happy lives with the cards they are dealt, and some commit suicide. Do you know the suicide rate in teenage boys? It’s higher than you think.”

“Then again, he can’t kill himself, can he?”

“No, he can’t. But Bram wants a shot at a real-life, and I want that for him too. One day, I won’t be there. Then what? Does he age until the power shuts down? Does he get to stay alone forever? Do you know that without skin contact a baby can die? Physical touch. That’s so important to us. If he wants to get that, I will give him that.”

“You will kill him.”

“He has been begging for this since he was eight years old. I have been perfecting the tech ever since. Being a mother gives you greater incentive than being a scientist. Love over glory and money, I guess. The process is now the best I will ever be able to create. I have enough faith in it to try. And we will. On his birthday. Like we agreed. See… he was fine with waiting, and then you came along. He might want this for you more than for himself. In his mind, it’s now or never.”

“Does he think it will work?”

“I think he doesn’t care. I think he sees it as a win-win. Either way, he will be free.”

“But…”

“Simon, I met you less than an hour ago. You won’t change my mind. As for Bram… I think that you are here because of this. Because he wanted you to know before it happens. In case he dies.”

“I want to talk to him.”

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

 

I am sitting in front of that computer. Because of the webcam, I know he can see me and it makes me feel a little self-conscious.

“Have you seen it?” he asks with his electronic voice.

“The body you are going to kill yourself to try to inhabit?”

“It’s not like that.”

“It _is_ like that! God, Bram! Isn’t this enough? You and me talking, hanging out… Isn’t it enough?”

“No. It’s actually the opposite of enough.”

“Why?”

“All my life, I wanted to be like the other boys. The ones in movies or books, or ads, or online. Have a real existence. But then I met you and it became a need. I don’t want to be your friend while you’re having a life out there. I want to live that life with you. As your friend, or maybe more than that.”

“You don’t even know if you’re gay.”

“That boy had a rainbow bracelet when he was brought into the hospital. And some flyers about a gay club. There are two theories. Being gay is a choice, or it’s in your genes. If it’s in your body, then I’ll be in a gay body. If it’s in your mind, then I chose you, Simon.”

“Bram…”

“I know that you might not want me. You mentioned that Cal Price kid a few times. But…”

“Of course I want you,” I interrupt him. “But I can’t have you if you’re dead, Bram.”

“I know you don’t get it. But I’d rather be dead than having half a life. Do you know how lonely this is? No one is like me. No one has ever been or ever will be. My previous version made me similar to a human in every way, but I can’t fulfill even the smallest desire. Like holding someone’s hand. Eating Oreos. Bonding with someone without a screen.”

I am fighting really hard to keep the tears inside, now.

“Bram… I can’t lose you.”

“Right now, I’m pretty much just an app on your phone.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I trust my mom. She wouldn’t try it if she wasn’t sure.”

“Is she really a genius? Because so far, she only told me about her work that failed.”

“She is.”

“I can’t change your mind, can I?”

“No.”

“Bram, your birthday is in two days. That’s so soon.”

“I know. Will you be there? When that happens? I would like you to be the first thing I see.”

I consider my options. If this goes badly, do I want to be there to witness Bram dying? Then again, if this goes badly, do I want to be the one that left him alone in the end? Plus, if it doesn’t… if Bram becomes a real person… I definitely want to be there for that.

So I say yes.

 

Before leaving, I ask Bram’s mom what I should call her. She is Dr. Margaret Linberg. I can call her Maggie.

 

For Bram’s birthday, we spend a bit of time in the room on the right, with Bram and his mother. She tells me a lot of stories about Bram growing up and I am amazed at how similar they are to the ones my mom would tell when Bram is… well, Bram. He is as embarrassed as I would be, and for a moment, I forget that he is an AI. A short moment, though.

It is a very nice moment, but there is this tension behind everything we do. Then at some point, Bram tells us that this is time. He is ready.

I really want to hug him, but I can’t.

He doesn’t let us say goodbye. He says it would be bad luck.

So we move to the room on the left. The boy is still there, hooked to machines and IVs. He has more electrodes on his brain, though. Bram’s mother gets behind the computer by the bed, operates her magic, her face focused but not particularly confident, and she comes to sit by his bed with me.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it for me. Now he’s loading.”

“How long?”

“An hour.” An hour that’s both extremely short and an eternity. “But then it won’t be finished.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bram doesn’t know how to use a body. He has to learn how to see, move, speak… all of it. When he is going to wake up, you won’t be able to stay for very long. I need to start helping him work his body soon, and you don’t want to be there for that.”

“When will you know if it worked?”

“A day or two. Before that, it will be hard to tell if we got all of Bram and if the transfer didn’t fry the brain.”

“How sure are you that it will work?”

“Right now, I have to be a hundred percent sure. Otherwise I’ll go crazy.”

I do the same. Every second that passes, I tell myself that everything is going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

Every second. Until the machine beeps.

“It’s over,” Maggie says. “The transfer is done.”

“Now what?”

“Now we wait to see if the brain handled the transfer properly and if it was still salvageable.”

Oh, that was a possible issue too?

Everything is going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

Everything is going to be fine.

It takes Bram fifteen more minutes to open his eyes. He squints immediately. His eyes haven’t been open in a long time. But the second time, he manages to keep them open. He doesn’t really know how to move or speak yet, but he is breathing, and his eyes find mine straight away. What I see in there gives me so much hope.

I see someone that knows my face and is happy to see me.

“Okay, Simon. Time to go.”

 

A day or two. That’s what she said.

On Monday, I try not to think about it. They are probably busy and I would get in the way.

On Tuesday, I get nervous.

On Wednesday, I am afraid.

On Thursday, I panic.

Friday morning, I am throwing up and my mother tells me that I should maybe not go to school. I tell her I’ll be fine. I don’t tell her that I am obsessing over my computer boyfriend that doesn’t reply to emails or texts anymore and that might be dead because we fried some dead guy’s brain, and that I, therefore, need a distraction.

By lunch, I made up my mind. After school, I will go back to his house. No matter what happened, I need to know.

This doesn’t happen, though.

As I am walking to my car, I notice that someone is leaning against it. Someone I don’t know. Someone that still looks familiar. Someone that I have seen twice before, lying down, hooked to machines. My heart stops. It’s him! He’s here. He is _just there_. Not coming to school today would have been the biggest mistake of my life.

My body takes over and I run to him. I stop a few steps away. I really want to hug him, but I have no idea what’s okay and what’s not right now.

“It’s you!”

“It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Real teenagers go to school.” I love his voice. “I thought I would come and check the place out before starting on Monday.

“Really? You enrolled here?”

“Yes. I live in this district, you know?”

“I’m so happy you’re here! Do you want me to show you around?”

“No, thanks. I am supposed to meet with a boy named Garrett Laughlin on Monday. He’s going to give me induction. Do you know him?”

“Yes, he’s in my group of friends.”

“Then I guess I’ll get along with him. Oh, and apparently, he is on the soccer team. I think I will try-out. Mom says that I am surprisingly great at using my new body and that I have perfect muscle coordination. Maybe I’m sporty.” I don’t know if he is, but this body clearly was.

“How did you know which car was mine?”

“Instagram.”

Obviously. “Why did it take so long?” I ask him. “I was going crazy.”

“Sorry. I guess I was just vain. It took me three days to learn how to use my body. Coordinate the muscles, apply the correct amount of strength, all of that. My mom was also testing me all the time. Making sure I was still me and all of me. Which according to her, I am. But… I needed a bit more time. There are so many things I need to get used to and… only today did I feel like I could do this. Plus I never really had a phone, so we had to order one. We’ll have to exchange numbers again.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“Do you want to come to my house? I have Oreos.”

“I would follow you anywhere for Oreos. You really built them up.”

“And you still have no idea how amazing it’s going to be! Which one is your car?”

“I obviously don’t have a driving license, Simon.”

Right then, I can tell that it’s us. Me being an absolute moron and him smiling about it. It feels like Jacques and Blue.

“Right. Get in. I’ll give you a ride home tonight.”

 

When we get to my house, no one is home yet – thank God – but we are greeted by Bieber. It’s the first real dog that Bram meets and he is just so cute. He plays with him and pets him for ten minutes straight before being able to focus on something else.

“Sorry. It’s just…”

“New,” I finish. He looks at me like I get him, and I think I do. “Okay, come on. Oreo time.”

I teach it how to eat Oreos properly, with milk, of course. After his first one, I just stare at him, waiting for a reaction. For some reason, I expect a lot from this moment.

“Fine. I have to concede you this. It is very tasty.”

“Ha! Told you!”

“I’ve tried a lot of food this week. Apparently, I tend to prefer unhealthy food.”

“Because that’s the best one. Taste-wise, I mean.”

“So, it’s not just me?”

I laugh. “No. it’s not just you.”

We eat a few (lot) more Oreos and Bram tells me about all the things he could do before but can’t anymore. Like stay awake all the time. Sleep is an entirely new concept to him. Or change activities instantly. Now he has to use his body and move through space to do it. He also talks about all the things he understood intellectually but couldn’t quite comprehend. Pain, cold, hunger, sneezing (okay, this one must have felt weird), having to use the bathroom… But he says it’s all worth it. He tells me about the first time his mom hugged him and how they cried together. He talks about food and smells like the greatest thing in the universe. He describes his first shower with wonder in his eyes, and I try really hard to not picture him in the shower.

“So you’re happy?” We have moved to the living room and we are on the couch, facing each other, knees almost touching.

“More than I thought I would. I feel alive for the first time. I experience things first hand rather than through the words of someone else. When I used to read that you can feel the sun on your skin, I used to think that it was a metaphor. But it’s really not.”

He is so happy about the little things that I almost feel sad for myself. I just take things for granted.

As much as I am enjoying this conversation, and as endearing as it is to see him get excited about the smallest things, I can’t help but wonder. Is Bram gay? Does he want me? Is that why he’s here? Or are we just great friends. I would be fine with that. I can be his friend if that’s what he needs. But truthfully, it’s not what I want.

“Simon? Is everything fine?”

“Do you remember what you said? About… it being a choice or in your genes?”

I don’t know how to properly ask the question, but Bram understands me. Because he always has. “Are you asking me if I’m gay?” I nod, nervous. “I’m pretty sure I am.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Bram… after everything we’ve been through, nothing can be awkward anymore.”

“Fine. I know because of… something that happened to my body when I was thinking about you.” Wait. Is he talking about… “In my bed,” he adds, blushing. He _is_ talking about that. I smile. It’s not embarrassing. It’s the best freaking news anyone ever gave me.

Bram Greenfeld (I really need to ask him where that last name comes from one day. Definitely not now) is _attracted_ to me. The world is brighter today than it was yesterday. But that might just have been a physical reaction. I get boners without reasons, sometimes.

But then he takes my hand and he puts it on his chest. My first thought is about the tones muscles I can feel through his T-shirt. My second thought is about how fast his heart is beating. “It’s only doing that when I’m with you,” he says softly, almost a whisper.

I’m pretty sure that right now, my heart is beating even faster.

I leave my palm on his torso, but I lift my fingers to link them to his. We look at each other, and we both start leaning in. My eyes shut close an instant before our lips touch. I can feel both our hearts racing. It’s soft and lingering, and you would never guess it was his first kiss.

“Was that alright?” he asks.

“It was perfect.”

“It’s just… I’ve never done that before.”

“Like every single person before their first kiss,” I tell him and he smiles, apparently happy that this would be a normal first experience for a seventeen-year-old.

“Does it always feel like that?”

Granted, I only have kissed girls before. But it doesn’t feel like a lie when I say “No, it doesn’t.”

Bram lets go of my fingers and cups my face before kissing me again. I know I was right. I’m sure it _never_ feels like that. Nobody would ever stop kissing otherwise.

Then he abruptly pulls away, looking slightly panicked.

“Bram?”

“Sorry, I… I can’t control it, yet, and…” I am about to ask him what he’s talking about when his red cheeks and embarrassed look give it away.

“You won’t ever get that much control over it,” I tell him.

“What?”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s going to happen. Especially in this type of situation. I mean it’s probably going to get better, you just happen to discover your body through puberty… okay, that sounded way dirtier than I intended… the point is: don’t panic because of an erection. I mean… in public try to hide it and think about something unpleasant, but right now it’s fine.”

I am not really comfortable having this talk, but if I look embarrassed, he is going to go into full panic mode.

“I’m not trying to have sex with you,” he tells me.

“I know that,” I answer with a laugh. “Okay… next time, don’t let it distract you. For now… do you want to watch some TV?”

He smiles. “Yes. That, I know how to do.”

 

We end up me sitting on one edge of the couch, Bram lying down, his head on my lap. I am mindlessly playing with his hair when he says: “This is so nice.”

“Me touching your hair?”

“Everything about this moment. It was so worth it.”

Yes. Yes, it was.

“Bram?”

“What?”

“My parents will be home soon. Nora too. Do you want to go now or do you want to meet them?”

“Is it too soon?”

“It’s not too soon. But they are going to ask questions.”

“Like what?”

“If you’re my boyfriend, for instance.”

“Would you like me to be your boyfriend?” he asks, looking at me with his soft gentle eyes.

“I would like that very much.”

“So worth it,” he repeats softly before pulling me in for another kiss. My brain does the math quickly. Half an hour before anyone gets back. I guess we have time for a make-out session.

This time, no one pulls away.

 

 


	28. What if the story didn't take place in high school?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram knows that Jacques works in the same building, that he is cute and funny, that he is flirting back and that they might be falling for each other.  
> Bram knows he's not ready to be out. Yet he has to choose between Jacques and the closet. Soon. Before it's too late.

Bram’s eyes scan the room. There is a very high chance that Jacques is in there somewhere. If he could suddenly have Jacques pointed out to him, though, he wouldn’t. He likes the mystery – and right now he even needs it. Because there is still a gap between Bram and Blue. Blue is who Bram wants to be. Who he needs to be. Who he can’t be yet.

It all started months ago. It was supposed to be a temporary thing. A stupid idea that no one really pursued. Bram works in one of Atlanta’s tallest tower. He works for a publishing company that only releases non-fiction work. He is a proof-reader. His job is to make sure that everything that leaves his company – books, letters, posters, emails… – is grammatical, literate, accurate and communicates effectively.

Up until a few months ago, Bram had no idea what was happening on other floors. Of course, he sees the names of the companies in the lobby every day, but he never really cared beyond that. Big cities and big buildings provide a lot of anonymity and very little altruism.

One of the companies in the tower did a pop-up event to try to bring people together a bit more. Of course, it was all about publicity for their app company, but it was still good fun. Everyone who wanted to participate had to download an app that would work for only one day. You would be put in contact with another random user that you would message throughout the day, the add even sent conversation prompts randomly,  and at midnight, you would decide to reveal yourself or to let go.

Bram and Jacques decided to do neither. They very much enjoyed their anonymous conversation and created fake email addresses to carry on like this.

That’s when things started to get complicated. Bram soon had to admit to himself that his interest in Jacques was evolving in something romantic. Which, in itself, shouldn’t have been an issue. Jacques is gay, Jacques is single, Jacques is in his late twenties too, making him age-appropriate, Jacques is clearly flirting in his emails.

The real issue is that there is a massive gap between Blue and Bram. Blue is gay, out and proud. Bram is neither. Well… he is gay. But he is neither out, nor proud. Actually, he is confused as hell.

Bram knows he’s gay. He has no doubt about that. It’s just that’s it’s a recent revelation. Bram is terrified to come out for two reasons. The first one is that it is one thing to come out, especially to your family, when you are a teenager and you never were in an actual relationship. It is another one to do it after introducing six girlfriends to your parents. If he comes out now, he is properly changing his identity and the way his family and the world perceive him. The second reason is that, at twenty-six, he doesn’t know if it isn’t too late. Everyone had their experiences, their firsts, and Bram hasn’t even kissed a guy. How will he be able to explain to Jacques how new to all of this he is? Will Jacques still be interested after that?

Bram isn’t ready to take that chance.

 

Tonight, that same company is launching a new app and they are having a party. Everyone who tried out their first app was invited. Bram is there because there is a chance that Jacques will be too. Even if he is not ready for them to meet, he is really enjoying the feeling that they might be sharing the same space.

 

“You know, you’re supposed to mingle with people during a party,” Garrett says, suddenly appearing next to Bram.

Garrett doesn’t work in Bram’s company. They don’t even work on the same floor. Garrett works three floors higher. He designs sports equipment. Yet, somehow, they ended up having lunch at the same time every day and a friendship developed. A real friendship that exists outside of work as well.

A real friendship that led Garrett to meet one of Bram’s girlfriends, making coming out to Garrett equally awkward and difficult as it would be to his family. Bram thinks that Garrett would be fine with it. That he would be friends with the real Bram as much as he is with this version of him. But Bram isn’t sure and he isn’t ready to risk that yet either.

That’s the big thing: Bram isn’t ready. But he is getting there. The possibility of Jacques slowly overweighs everything else.

“I’m talking to you. That’s socializing, right?”

“Not really,” Garrett answers. “Plus, how am I going to get a girl if I am babysitting you all night? How are you going to get a girl?”

“I thought you said you don’t want to date someone from work. Did you change your mind?” Bram asks, avoiding the one question from Garrett he shouldn’t.

“No. But I meant someone from _my_ work. If she works on another floor, it’s like working on different planets. I don’t know half of the people in here.” Bram looks around. He doesn’t know most of those people either. Actually, he thinks he could name fifteen to twenty. He recognizes a bit more. Like the old lady with traditional clothes but bright purple hair or the guy with only one arm because they clearly stand out, even in the crowd. He also recognizes a girl that probably works a similar schedule as him because he sees her in the elevator nearly every day. Or that guy with messy hair, incredible grey eyes and who always holds eye-contact with Bram longer than strangers usually do. This one, Bram always notices. Bram doesn’t know his name, his job, or even the floor he works on, but his eyes seem to always be able to find him in the cafeteria, in the elevator, in the lobby, in the streets once or twice. He is one of the reasons Bram is sure rather than suspecting about his homosexuality. Some days, he even entertains the fantasy that this boy might be Jacques.

“Come on,” Garrett says. “Let’s start by talking to some guys from accounting. They are probably boring but they’re approachable.” There are probably dozens of stereotypes in that sentence, but Bram lets it slide and follows Garrett.

 

After an hour, Bram needs some air and makes it to the roof terrace. In the background, the sun is setting on the city. He leans on the railing, taking in the view.

Someone joins him and Bram nearly jumps when he realizes who it is. It’s the cute moon-eyes guy he was looking at earlier.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Simon. I work for the news agency on the twenty-second floor.”

“Bram. I work for the publishers.”

“Oh. So we’re sort of colleague,” Simon teases.

“I guess so.”

They talk a little bit about their jobs. Simon writes articles about Atlanta’s cultural life and jokes about being paid to entertain his hobby. Bram tells him that he feels the same about correcting grammar mistakes. Simon laughs, but not in a mocking way.

They talk for a while and it’s much nicer than talking to the guys from accounting. Bram feels warm inside whenever Simon smiles or laugh

“Since you’re here, I’m guessing you tried the first app,” Simon says. “Who did you get paired with.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh? Did you not get along?”

“No, we did. We just didn’t disclose our civilian identities. What about you?”

“About the same. But an intern from the agency got paired with a guy from the brokers' company on the forty-fifth and they are dating now.”

“Wow. I have a friend who got paired with the managing partner from that law firm with the fancy font,” Bram replies thinking about Garrett’s story.

“Are they dating now too?”

“No, they hate each other.”

Simon laughs. “That’s a very different outcome.”

“It is. I hope mine won’t hate me when we meet.”

“When?” Simon repeats. “You’re still in contact.”

“Yes. It’s a long story.”

Simon looks confused and Bram doesn’t want to talk about his confusing online relationship to what is pretty much a stranger. Plus, he doesn’t want to talk about Jacques the first time he is talking to a cute boy. Even if this isn’t flirting, even if he would choose Jacques over moon-eyes every time, even if he might be ruining things with Jacques with his insecurities. So Bram changes the subject.

 

When it gets chilly, they decide to get back to the party and to their mutual friends. Before going their separate ways, Bram tells Simon that he has lunch every day at the same time on the terrace of the cafeteria. Simon smiles and says that he’ll remember that.

Bram doesn’t actually think that Simon will actually do, but Simon shows up with his co-worker Leah for lunch on Monday. Garrett, being his usual happy self, doesn’t comment and simply seems happy to meet new people.

Simon and Leah start joining them for lunch daily. Garrett calls them the lunch crew, but only when Bram is the only one who can hear it.

On their fourth lunch, something amazing happens. Simon extremely casually mentions an ex- _boyfriend_ , and Garrett doesn’t even bat an eyelid at the news. He seems to think that there is nothing more natural than someone being gay. Bram obviously agrees with that, but not everybody does and it is a relief to know that Garrett isn’t one of those people.

 

Until one day, Bram is in the furniture closet at work. It’s still bigger than Bram’s bathroom. He is looking for some toner when someone knocks on the door. Bram turns around to see who is polite enough to knock on a closet door.

“Simon? What are you doing here?”

“We are running out of staples and I am on a special secret mission to steal some from every floor. You’re next on my list.” It’s obviously a joke, but Bram points in the right direction anyway. Simon smiles and gets in the closet. Honestly, the thing is big enough that it has isles, so even with the door closed, they are not in each other’s space. “No, seriously… I’m done for the day and I wanted to know if you wanted to go get a drink. Or dinner.”

Bram stops his scavenging and turns around properly to look at Simon. “Are we going with Leah?”

“No. I was thinking… Just you and me. Like a date. If you’d want to.”

“Oh. Hum…” This is a crossroads. Bram has four choices. Lie, saying that he’s flattered but that Simon is barking at the wrong tree. Go, as friends. Go and indulge in the massive crush he is developing on Simon, closing the door on Jacques forever. Or… “Simon, I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?”

“I’m sort of seeing someone? Well… I’m not seeing him, but… Do you remember when we talked about that app and how I’m still in contact with the person I was paired with? Well, it’s a bit complicated, but I think there is something there, and it might be in my head, but I’m not ready to let that go.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s not what?”

“In your head. It’s not.”

“Simon… what are you saying?”

“I’ve had doubts since the party. Since you talked about the app. It seemed like a big coincidence. And since then… there is a lot of the emails in you, and… I don’t know. I guess here I am, taking a leap of faith. Are you Blue?”

Bram’s heart rate spikes for a few seconds. Is this real? Is Bram going to wake up suddenly and have to live in a world where his real-life crush and his online flirt are two different people? Probably not. This feels like real life. “I am,” Bram confirms.

The widest smile spreads on Simon’s face. “Oh thank God. I wasn’t entirely sure and I was afraid to make a fool of myself. I mean… you’re very cute and I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

“I’m cute? Have you ever seen your eyes?”

“Grey is boring.”

“So, clearly, you have never seen your eyes.”

Simon blushes slightly, but he looks very pleased. “Okay, enough with that. So… was I reading too much in the emails? Or would you like to go on a date?”

“You weren’t reading too much into the emails. But… Simon, I’ve never done that.”

“What? Going on a date?”

“Not with a boy, no.”

“Oh.” Simon’s face falls a little. “Wait… you’re not gay?”

“No, I am. I just… I’ve accepted that about myself very recently.”

“Does anyone know?”

“You do.” Bram knows it’s a cowardly answer.

“I can’t do this, Bram.”

“Do what?”

“Going back in the closet. I’ve done my coming out, and it was a complicated time in my life. But it’s in the past. Like all the other shit that can happen when you’re a teenager. I don’t want to live that again. I can’t date someone in the closet. No matter how awesome you are, and how much I want this.”

“Simon…”

“Figure your shit out, Bram. Then, maybe, we’ll be able to start something. But I don’t want to have to hide again. Ever.”

“I’m not asking you to do that.”

“Look around, Bram. We are _literally_ in a closet.” It’s hard to argue with that.

“So this is it?” Bram asks.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that. I know two things. The first one is that I can’t date you if you don’t accept who you are. The second is that I don’t want to lose you in my life. How do you feel about keeping things platonic? We can still have some drinks. As friends. What do you think?”

It’s better than Bram expected. It’s better than it was an hour ago. He found Jacques. He is getting to know Simon better. Simon didn’t say no. he said ‘maybe’. He said ‘later’. Bram tries really hard to convince himself that it’s good enough.

“I’m still working for an hour,” Bram answers.

“Okay. Let’s meet in town. Around eight? I’ll email you the address. And my phone number.”

“Perfect.”

 

Garrett catches Bram as they are both leaving the building. “Greenfeld, do you want to come to watch the game tonight?”

“I can’t, I’m getting drinks with Simon.”

“With Spier? Is it a date?”

“Garrett, I… It’s…”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. Whenever you’re ready.” Here is the thing. Bram thought about it all weekend. He is ready. But he doesn’t want Garrett to be the first person he tells. There is someone else who deserves to know before anyone else. “But, you know… do what makes you happy, not what you think people expect of you.”

Bram looks at Garrett and for a second, there is this moment of perfect understanding between them. Then Garrett pats Bram on the shoulder and walks away.

Perhaps the step that Bram needs to take isn’t as big as he envisioned.

 

Going out with Simon, knowing that he is Jacques, feels like being somewhere between that night on the roof and their emails. It is easy and great and a window on what could be.

They talk about everything except the obvious. They don’t mention homosexuality, coming out, or being into each other.

Bram doesn’t know if it’s better this way.

He gets home absolutely sure about two things. He is ready to come out. He wants Simon.

 

Every Thursday evening, Bram has dinner with his mother. He drives back to the suburbs after work, she cooks something, Bram brings wine, flowers or dessert, and they talk about their week. It’s tradition.

Tonight is going to be slightly different. Tonight, Bram is finally going to be truthful with his mother. He is going to stop hiding that part of himself he even hid from himself for so long.

“Mom, I met someone.”

“Really? I thought you were a bit different lately. More… hopeful, I think?”

Jacques definitely made Bram hopeful. Simon even more so. Bram needs to believe that he didn’t lose that. That their connection is real and that Simon truly would care for an out and proud Bram.

“Is it someone from work?”

“Sort of. Same building, different floor.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We are not… it’s a bit complicated.”

“Unrequited love?”

“No, it’s not even that, it’s… they don’t think they would fit into my life.”

Bram’s mother sits in front of him, looking serious, suddenly.

“They? Are we talking about multiple people, or are we playing the pronoun game?” Bram is silent. He is just at the edge. He is about to say it. He just needs to take the plunge. “Bram, I know.”

“What?”

“That thing that you can’t seem to be able to tell me. That probably feels bigger than the world, now. I know.”

Bram feels his eyes water. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I am your mom. I know you better than anyone. I… I am so relieved that you now know it too and that you stopped lying to yourself.” She takes his hand and tears roll down Bram’s cheeks. “But you need to say it, sweetheart. You need to make peace with that part of yourself. You need to embrace it. This is who you are, stop making excuses for it.”

“Mom… I am in love with a man.”

She has a soft smile. “I guess it is a start.”

Bram takes a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

“Well done. I am so proud of you.” They look at each other for a long time and it finally feels like the truth. Bram who was always gay but never could see himself other than through the prism of society. Bram’s mother who patiently waited for Bram to discover the biggest truth about himself, probably feeling disappointed whenever Bram would tell her he met a girl. “Do you want to tell me about him?”

“His name is Simon.”

“That’s it? You fell in love with a first name?”

Bram tells her all about Simon. By the end of it, she has a happy smile and Bram feels like he fell in love all over again.

 

Bram tells Garrett the next day after work. It is almost a formality – they both knew he figured it out – but it still feels like a small liberation.

 

The next step for Bram will be telling his father. That is going to be more complicated. That is the real challenge. His father who is so traditional and who wants nothing more (or less) than an easy mapped out life for his children.

He is the big uncertainty.

But then, Bram will be able to reach out to Simon.

 

When Bram wakes up, it’s far too early. Through the window, he can see from the light that the sun is barely rising. It’s too early for his alarm clock. Actually… today is Sunday. His alarm won’t even ring. He shifts in his bed wondering what woke him up when someone decisively knocks on his door.

Now, he is fully awake. No one shows up a few minutes shy of five a.m. unless there is an emergency.

Bram opens his door still in his underwear and is very surprised to see Simon. A very cute but very inebriated Simon. “Simon? What are you doing here? Are you alright?”

Simon sighs, almost dreamily. “Of course, that’s what you look like half-naked.”

That sentence flusters Bram a bit. “Do you want to come in?”

Simon seems to snap out of it. “Yes! Yes. I came because I need to tell you something very important.”

Simon happily sits on Bram’s couch and looks around while Bram leaves the room to put a t-shirt and some pants on. Simon seems amazed when Bram comes back with a glass of water. He drinks it down in one go and then stares at Bram.

“You said you had something to tell me?”

Simon seems to suddenly remember what he’s doing there. “I do. You know, I was out drinking with Abby. Do you know Abby?”

“I don’t.”

“She works with me. She’s great. You would love her. She should join us for lunch! We could be a lunch club!” So drunk Simon thinks like regular Garrett. Interesting. Miles from the point, though.

“Simon… I’m pretty sure you didn’t show up at my house at dawn to ask me to start a lunch club.”

“No. I did not.” Simon doesn’t say more. Apparently, drunk Simon has the same attention span has a goldfish.

“Why are you here, then?” Bram knows he should let it go. Put Simon to sleep and have that conversation in the morning. But he can’t. He really wants to know why Simon felt the need to come and talk to him. Even if he’s drunk, and that will probably be a silly reason.

“Abby has a new boyfriend.”

“Okay. I am very happy for Abby.”

“Me too. he makes her happy. She deserves it. and you know what? I deserve that too.” Is that the moment Simon is going to tell Bram that he is done waiting? That he met someone at the bar? Will the fact that Bram came out to his mother change anything then? Did he wait too long?

“Everyone is looking for someone who makes them happy,” Simon continues. “Someone who makes them laugh and makes them feel special. But I have found that. You make me so happy, Bram. When I read your emails, I feel warm and fuzzy. And that on the roof, at the party… It was the best night of my life. Or that night we were supposed to go on a date… I wanted to kiss you the entire time.”

Bram can feel his hands shake ever so slightly. Is Simon saying what Bram thinks he’s hearing? Bram could lean in and he knows Simon would kiss him back. Just a few inches and he could get Simon. A very drunk Simon that would certainly regret the entire thing the next day. “Maybe you should sleep it off before claiming things like that. It will feel different in the morning.”

Simon takes Bram’s hand and Bram feels a wave moving from that point of contact, through his arm, all the way to his heart. Tomorrow morning – actually, later today – will hurt like hell. When Bram looks in Simon’s eyes, he seems more focused than he’s been since he arrived. “I really don’t think it will. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since the closet. I don’t mind anymore.”

“Don’t mind what?”

“Any of it. I don’t mind if you’re in the closet. I’m sure it will be comfy with you. The metaphorical one. I never cared that you were in an actual closet. But the other one… We can get out of there when you’re ready.”

“Simon…”

“Actually… I’m even happy. After college, no one is ever someone else’s first anymore. But I get to be your first boyfriend. I want that.”

“I’m sure you do. Now. But tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow will be just the same.”

“Then we can talk about it tomorrow. Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Simon’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Bed? Is this an indecent proposal?”

“No, it’s not. You need some sleep, and at this point, I think I’ll just start my day.”

Simon lets Bram take him to the bedroom, and he drinks the second glass of water that Bram gives him. Simon is practically falling asleep now and Bram has to help him get his shoes and trousers off. Bram puts a blanket on Simon and Simon wraps his fingers around Bram’s forearm. Bram freezes, his face a couple of inches away from Simon’s.

“Sorry for being a mess right now,” Simon whispers.

“Sorry for being a mess with my life,” Bram answers.

“I know I can’t, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Maybe when you wake up,” Bram offers.

Simon nods. "Will you be here in the morning?"

"Simon, it's my apartment."

"Right. Good. See you in the morning," Simon mumbles. He falls asleep the moment his head touches the pillow.

 

Bram keeps himself busy. He eats breakfast, takes a shower, watches a bit of TV and answers some work emails. He does everything he can not to think about Simon sleeping, a few feet away, or wonder about whether sleep and sobriety will change his mind about things.

And if it does, what will Simon think about Bram coming out to his mother? Would that be enough or does Simon not want to be around Bram as he transitions from one life to another?

 

Around 11 a.m., Bram hears some noise. At first, he thinks that Simon is waking up before realizing that it’s his front door. He knows only one person who has the key to his apartment. Without fail, his mother suddenly appears in the kitchen, where Bram is drinking his fourth cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” she says with a smile.

“Mom! What happened to using the doorbell? Or knocking? Some people do that.”

“Some people didn’t give birth to you.”

“Mom…”

“I’m sorry. I’ll knock next time. But I texted you I was coming.”

“Oh, sorry, my phone is…” on silent, in the bedroom, where a boy is sleeping, “… switched off.”

“I came to take you to lunch. I had some business in town, and I thought we could go to Nino’s? Talk a little bit.”

“Mom, I’d love to, but I’m already otherwise engaged today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What are you doing?”

Timings like this only happen in movies. And yet just as she asks, Simon gets out of Bram’s bedroom, which they can perfectly see from where they are sitting, barefoot, jeans unzipped, putting his sweater back on. “Bram, I…”

Simon stops halfway through pulling his sweater down when he sees Bram’s mother. For thirty seconds, no one moves or speaks. Everyone is simply assessing the situation.

“Simon, this is my mother. Mom, this is Simon.” Bram really hopes Simon doesn’t notice the absurdly large smile blooming on his mother’s face.

“Of course. From work, right?”

Simon seems surprised, but he confirms. “Yes, I guess that’s me.”

“I’m very sorry for imposing. Bram, next time, I’ll call instead of text, and I’ll use the doorbell. I’ll disappear now and give you your privacy.”

“Mom, it’s not like that.”

“Bram, you’re a grown man. I can handle you having relationships. Simon, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we can meet in better circumstances next time.”

She shakes Simon’s hand, puts a kiss on Bram’s cheek and leaves the flat. Bram feels as embarrassed as the day his mother told Lisa Harris that she was ‘so lucky to have such a handsome boy as Bram taking her to prom’. She has zero chill.

“Sorry about that,” Bram says.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who showed up drunk at your doorstep in the middle of the night. Thank you for leaving me your bed, by the way.”

“Did you sleep alright?”

“I did. But you shouldn’t have let me sleep so late. I’m such an imposition.”

“You’re not. Coffee?”

“Please.”

Simon sits in front of Bram and stirs his coffee in silence until Bram says: “Should we talk about it?”

“Probably,” Simon agrees.

“How much do you remember?”

“All of it. I remember leaving Abby in the club as she was kissing her perfect new boyfriend because I had this uncontrollable urge to see you. I remember me throwing myself at you and you being a gentleman and putting me to bed. I remember you telling me that things would be different in the morning.”

“Are they?”

“Partially. I still mean what I told you. I thought about it and… part of me wants to stay as far from the closet as possible. But there is another part of me which knows that I can’t have you around and be just your friend. I’ll always want more. And I do not want to cut you out of my life. You do make me happy, Bram. As Blue and as you. So I’ll be by your side. We’ll take all the baby steps you need.”

“You said ‘partially’. What’s different?”

“I didn’t realize that this isn’t exactly where we stand anymore. Your mother didn’t seem that surprised to find you with a man.”

“No. I told her.”

“Because I pushed you?”

“Because it was time. Not that it matters, because she already knew.”

“Wow, really?”

“She’s not the only one. I think Garrett figured it out long before I told him as well.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. Freed?”

“I’m very happy for you.”

“It’s two people. But it’s a step toward the world, isn’t it?”

“You know… I think I was a bit harsh on you the other day. I think… I think I was afraid that because you hadn’t had a relationship and you weren’t out, maybe you weren’t sure. That maybe I was investing myself in something that wasn’t and couldn’t be real. That it was a phase or something. Or that you would never be ready to accept that part of yourself. But being out is… whatever you want it to be. It can be two people, it can be the world. As long as you’re not ashamed of who you are, it’s fine. At work, for instance… I don’t hide who I am and some people know, but most people don’t. I don’t advertise my sexuality. Leah knows. Abby doesn’t yet. I’m not hiding it, it just never came out. Okay, weird phrasing, but you know what I mean. What I mean is… I don’t know what I wanted from you. I am very happy that you could talk to your mother and that she seems supportive. If that’s all you can or want to do for now, it’s fine. It’s more than fine.”

“So… what do you want?”

Simon slides his hands on the table and reaches Bram’s fingers before answering, “I want to be closer to you. In whichever way makes you comfortable.” Bram squeezes Simon’s hand. “But...” Simon seems a bit uncomfortable. “You know yesterday, or earlier today, when I mentioned that thing about firsts?” Bram nods. “I didn’t mean that.”

“So you don’t want us to be a thing?” Simon is sending very mixed messages.

“No, I do. Trust me, I do. The only thing preventing me from being all over you right now is that I probably smell and taste like a nightclub’s floor… It’s just… I realized it sounded like I’m interested in you because I get to be your first boyfriend. It’s really not that. I’m interested in you. Being your first boyfriend – if that’s what you want – is going to be great, and also awkward, and… it has nothing to do with why I’m into you.”

“It’s what I want.”

“Sorry?”

“You being my first boyfriend. It’s what I want.”

Simon smiles and Bram smiles back. They are still holding hands. Bram really wants to kiss Simon. Even if he might taste like a dancefloor.

“I think I’m going to go home,” Simon announces. “I’m going to… quite literally scrub myself, and then maybe I could take you out? Tonight? Finally go on that date?”

“It sounds great. But you could also scrub in my shower. I have spare towels, spare clothes, and even a brand new spare toothbrush still in its packaging. Then I could fix us something to eat and we could have a lazy Sunday in.”

“Toothbrush at your place already? How did you move from being closeted to that so fast?”

“Oh, no, I just…”

“Relax, I’m just kidding. I would love to do everything you just said. Could I still take you out tonight?”

“I’d love that. Maybe somewhere very gay.”

Simon laughs. “Sure. We’ll start your initiation. Speaking of… I am going to take that shower, I am going to thoroughly clean my teeth, and as soon as I leave that bathroom, I am going to kiss you. I am going to give you a first kiss that great that you never even consider the idea of going back.”

Bram has a hard time keeping his smile low-key. He even has to bite the inside of his cheeks. He loves every single one of those words.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443472)


	29. What if one of them was made of sand?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue knows who Simon is. Simon would just like to know who Blue is in return. But Blue decides to pull away. According to him, they could never work anyway.  
> Blue has one more secret that Simon can't seem to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so when I was challenged to that one, I thought 'I don't have a sand-man story in me'. Apparently I did.  
> So, clearly, it's another weird one. BUT. After that, I have a lot of perfectly normal chapters coming your way, I promise.

If I look at the facts calmly and logically, I’m pretty sure I know who Blue is. I don’t know what to do with that information, though. His last email was… well, I’m pretty sure it was his last email. I can’t help reading it over and over again. And every time it hurts like hell.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 21 at 7.45 PM

SUBJECT: Sorry

 

Simon,

I know you’re right. I have known who you are for months, and it is incredibly selfish of me to keep you in this grey area. It’s more than time for our relationship to evolve into something else.

The thing is that I’m still not ready. At this stage, we have to face the awful truth that I certainly never will. And I cannot ask you any longer to stay in this relationship that frustrates you, and that’s not even real.

I guess that what I’m trying to say is that I am sorry. I am weaker than I thought, and I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. I shouldn’t have let myself fall for you. There is a pretty long list of things I shouldn’t have done.

I wish I could explain, but I can’t.

Thank you for being what felt like my best friend for so long when I gave back so little.

Please know that even if you won’t be able to witness it, my heart will always skip a beat when I will see you in the corridors.

 

Love.

Goodbye.

Blue.

 

 

I didn’t see the email until the next day and Blue’s email account was already deactivated. I couldn’t beg him to disregard my previous email. Explain to him that I thought that by asking him one more time to meet, he would either finally cave, or just say no one more time. That if I even imagined that he could pull away completely, I would never ever have brought it up. That what we had, however intangible, was still one of the most precious things to me. That if he thinks he had fallen for me, it’s probably nothing compared to how I fell for him.

That’s what saved me from despair. He fell for me. Surely, that means that some part of him wants me.

It led me to re-reading all of the other emails, listing all the clues I could find in them, crossing off people in my year in the yearbook. It left me five possibilities. I must admit that then, I went for a gut feeling. There is one chance out of five that Blue is in reality Bram Greenfeld, but I am ninety-five percent sure that Bram is Blue.

What I’m not sure about, is what to do with that information. I could confront him, but wouldn’t I risk losing him? Who am I kidding? I lost him anyway. At least, a grand gesture might turn tables on the entire situation.

 

I spend the entire next day trying to summon the strength to go to Bram. To say something. If he isn’t Blue, I’ll make a fool of myself, but I’ll just go to the next name on my list. If he is Blue, he might reject me a second time. He probably will. But there is this minuscule chance that he will change his mind, and I am desperate for it. I am willing to try anything. At this point, I’m pretty sure I would even ask every boy from school one by one if I have to.

Because losing Blue feels like losing a part of me and even if it’s only been a few days, I’m not sure I can even breathe properly without him. Even through a screen.

 

It’s Wednesday, which means that Garrett is mentoring a freshman and Bram is waiting for him in the library. I remember that because it always surprised me that Bram wasn’t the one doing mentoring. Then again, I don’t really know any of them enough to emit a judgment, I guess.

I spot Bram as soon as I enter the library. Since I started suspecting who Blue might be, my eyes find Bram as soon as we are in the same room. I noticed that Cute Bram is actually more than cute. And right now, with the light from the high windows falling on him, he looks almost divine. He looks like a well-lit piece of art. He looks like a prize or a trophy.

I walk to him, nervous. He looks up when he hears me coming and smiles shily and politely, as always. Maybe he isn’t Blue after all.

No. No. Simon, now is not the time to chicken out.

“Simon, hi.”

“Hi. Can I speak to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Is it about Mr. Wise’s paper?”

“What?”

“The English homework.”

“Oh. No. It’s not that. It’s something a bit more private.”

Bram indicates the empty library. “There’s no one around. Do you want to sit?” “Sure,” I say, happy to be able to stall for a few seconds. I’m still trying to figure out how to phrase what I need to say when Bram says: “You know, don’t you?”

I am slightly taken aback at his question. Not only that he would know that I figured it out, but also that he would be so upfront about it. “I do.”

He sighs, puts his pen down, rubs his eyes and finally makes eye contact with me. He looks anxious and tired. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you? Of course not. But I’m a bit confused.”

“About me not wanting to meet or about me disappearing on you?”

“Both, honestly.”

“Simon, there are… things you don’t know about me.”

“Did it never occur to you that I would like to know them?”

“I really don’t think you do.”

“Bram… I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not ready for. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do. You didn’t have to disappear on me. We could have kept things online.”

“But it wasn’t fair on you. You wanted more than I thought I could offer.”

“Thought?”

“I know it’s only been days. But I missed you, Simon. Lunchtime interactions are… not enough. Besides, you know who I am now. It would be incredibly ridiculous to stop being friends and pretend nothing happened.”

“So we’re friends?”

“I can’t give you more.”

“I’m not asking for more. I’m just happy you’re back. Actually, we’re already more than we were. I’m fine with that. I’m more than fine with that.” Bram smiles. It’s not a wide happy smile, but it’s more than I usually get.

Bram is about to say something but Garrett walks in. “Hey, Bram, I… oh, hi Simon.”

“Hi.”

Garrett glares at Bram and the two of them have a silent conversation for a few seconds. The kind you can only have with people you know really well.

“I’m done with Ryan,” Garrett finally says. “Are you done with your homework? Then again, no one cares, it’s probably the homework for next month. Should we get something to eat?”

“Sure,” Bram replies, starting to pack his things.

“Spier, you comin’?” Garrett asks. I hesitate, but Garrett adds, “My bad. It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t. Get your stuff. I’m buying. Free food. No one can say no to that, right?” He does make a very valid point.

 

We end up having dinner in a Thai restaurant I never visited before and it’s a revelation. Not the restaurant, although it’s amazing and I am definitely coming back someday, but spending time with Bram and Garrett.

The way they interact together in school always showed a very strong bond, but I didn’t expect for it to be even more obvious outside of school. The two of them get along better and are closer than I ever did with anyone. Yet, I don’t feel shut out. They make sure to include me at every moment. Bram is more open than usual. I don’t know if it’s the Garrett effect or if it is because I finally know who he is, but I see so much of Blue in him when he’s just being himself.

After spending a couple of hours with them, I have to admit two things:

  1. I need to spend more time with those two, because they are a fantastic dynamic duo.
  2. I lied to Bram earlier. I am not fine being his friend. I want him as more than that.



I don’t know yet how to change his mind, but I am definitely going to dedicate most of my time working on exactly just that. It might not work, but I want to fight for us. We’re perfect together. I know he sees it too. I need to find out the reason he is pulling away from me and show him that, no matter what this reason is, it’s not bigger than us.

 

I don’t want to come on too strong on Bram, so I build things slowly. I develop a new routine. Every Wednesday, I join Bram in the library and we do our homework quietly. It’s already starting to impact my grades for the better, so there is always that. Then, I join them for food. That last part was Garrett’s doing, week after week until it just became organic. I think Garrett ships us. Maybe he’ll help me change Bram’s mind.

Several times, I feel like Bram is just on the verge of something. But he always pulls back last second.

It’s starting to feel like I’m tilting at windmills. Yes, working with Bram improved my list of literary idioms.

 

One evening, I run into Garrett in the parking lot after school. He’s alone, which is actually rare enough to be noticed.

“Hi, Garrett. Just you today?”

“Hi. Yeah, Bram wasn’t feeling well after school, so he went home before soccer practice.”

“That bad?”

“Nah, not really. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Garrett… can I ask you something?”

“No, those pants don’t make you look fat,” he answers with a fake serious face.

“Good to know. But I meant about Bram.”

“I know you did. Look, Bram is my best friend. He’s my brother, really. Whatever you need to know, you will have to ask him.”

“I understand that. I just need to know… is he interested in me, or am I just making a fool of myself?”

Garrett stares at me for what feels like forever. He is either debating what he can say, or trying to figure how to phrase it. Maybe both. “He’s definitely interested,” he finally answers, making it almost impossible for me to contain my hope.

“Then… does he really have a reason to… not go for it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answers breaking eye-contact.

“I don’t need you to tell me the reason, I just need you to tell me if I’m fighting against bigger than me.”

“Spier… Yes, Bram is going through some shit. Do I think it’s enough to stay away from romance? I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is what he thinks, and it definitely seems to be a deal-breaker for him.”

“So I don’t stand a chance?”

“I’m not in his head. I would say that you do stand a chance, I just don’t know how big that chance is. You know what? Come with me. We can go see if Bram is feeling better and you can ask him all of that yourself. It’s clearly eating you up.”

“Go see Bram? Do you think his parents will be cool with that? I remember him saying in an email that he’s in a foster home, they might not like him having unexpected visitors.”

“Don’t worry, my mom is cool.”

“Good. Wait, what?”

Garrett is smiling, amused. “People don’t really know that. It’s not that we’re hiding it, it’s just that it never really comes up. When I say that Bram is my brother, it’s not true genetically, but it’s a bit more than a saying.”

“Your family is fostering Bram? Since when?”

“He came to our house when we were eight.”

“Oh wow. That’s ages ago. I didn’t know.”

“I told you. No one does. So… wanna play doctor?”

“Sure. No, wait… I mean I’d like to see Bram, I didn’t mean…” Garrett's smile gets wider. Apparently, he is very amused. “Oh, shut up. Just lead the way and I’ll follow you.”

 

How did I not realize that Bram and Garrett lived together? To be fair, Blue mentioned being in foster care once, but that information somehow didn’t really connect to Bram when I connected the dots. Actually, let’s go to an even larger problem. How come that in two years of sharing the same lunch table, Bram’s or Garrett’s family situation never got mentioned? Am I that shitty of a friend? How much do I not know about Nick or Leah that I should?

This life revelation will have to wait. Garrett is entering a driveway and I park behind him.

 

We get in the house and Garrett shouts out Bram’s name who replies from what seems to be the living room. I follow Garrett there and Bram does a double-take when he sees me. I probably did one too. He is wearing shorts, revealing his _amazing_ calves, and a T-shirt that sticks to his body, apparently still wet from a shower. He one hundred percent looks more than cute right now.

“Simon, hi. What are you doing here?”

“He came to check up on you,” Garrett says, sitting in the armchair, leaving me only one option to sit: on the couch, next to Bram.

“Check on me?”

“I told him you were feeling unwell and you skipped practice.”

Bram looks a bit confused. “And you took Simon home to check up on me because I was feeling under the weather?”

“No. I took him home so the two of you can finally make out or whatever.” I wonder if Garrett had any shame or boundary. Apparently not with Bram.

“Right. Don’t you have something to do? Like in your room, outside, or anywhere that’s not here.”

“I do actually. I am meeting Tom in town. I actually dropped by to check up on you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would get.”

“Okay. Well, I’m off. Have fun the two of you. Please don’t break up before even being a thing or Wednesdays are gonna be hella awkward.” And he leaves.

“Sorry about Garrett,” Bram tells me after the front door closes. “I know he’s a bit much.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“For not realising that you and Garrett are actually foster brothers.”

“Don’t. I never told you I had a brother, I never even call him that, and we don’t have the same last name. How could you have known?”

“I could have asked.”

“Quite frankly, it feels like I’m living at my best friend’s more than being a real part of the family. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not on Garrett or on his mom, it’s just me.”

“I remember you mentioning in an email once that you feared sometimes that you could be a burden to your family. Is that what’s holding you back? Because I’m sure it’s not true.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” Bram seems extremely sad suddenly. I put my hand on his and he seems to snap out of his melancholy to fall into another kind of trance. He looks at our touching skin like it’s impossible to look away. He threads his fingers through mine. His fingers are incredibly soft.

His eyes move from our fingers to my face and I see an odd mix of fear and hope in them. I think is my cue. My moment to be brave and go all in.

I put my other hand on his face. He doesn’t pull back and I take it as a sign that if Bram won’t take the first step toward us, he would follow me if I did. So I kiss him and he kisses me back.

 

Dating Bram is almost like a dream come true. The boy is perfect. Not just as Bram and Blue, but also as a boyfriend. He makes me laugh, he is caring and considerate, his lips are magic, and he came out to all our friends the day after our first kiss.

There is still a shadow on our relationship, but it’s so small I almost don’t see it. I still don’t know what Bram was so afraid of. This reason he had to stay away. I try to convince myself that it was just having to come out, but I have a feeling that it was something else.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. And I know it won’t matter. Because at this point, I also know that I am completely in love with him.

 

After nearly two months, Bram announces me that his foster mother would like to meet me. I guess it’s fair. He met my parents a week ago, so it’s probably my turn. But I am very intimidated by it. I know that Bram sometimes feels like a burden for his family. I don’t want to make it weirder by having them dislike his boyfriend.

“Any last-minute thing I should know before we go in?” I ask as Bram is driving me to his place.

“Stop being so nervous. Garrett’s mom is very nice.” The way Bram calls her is always a bit strange. I know he calls her ‘Mom’ but when he talks about her, he always says ‘Garrett’s mom’. It breaks my heart every time. I actually really want to see the dynamics of the family. See how much of this is real and how much is in Bram’s head.

“What about your dad?”

Bram’s hands stiffen on the wheel and his knuckles go very pale. “He left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. When did that happen?”

“When he asked Garrett’s mom to chose between him and me and she chose to keep me.” Oh. That completely changes the picture I had in my head. It shows how much of a family member his mom thinks he is. But I also understand why Bram would have felt like a burden ever since.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Trust me, It’s mine.”

“But it’s not, Bram. Everyone is responsible for their own choices.”

“Simon… could we change the subject? And maybe not bring that over dinner?”

“Sure.” I don’t want to push anything. After months of emailing, there are very few subjects Bram didn’t open up to me about. If he never talked about that, it’s probably very painful for him. We can talk about it later. When he’s ready. When he feels safe.

 

Mrs. Laughlin is very nice. She seems extremely pleased to meet Bram’s boyfriend and she keeps asking me questions about my interests, school, my family, Bieber… not in a nosy way. She appears to be genuinely interested and that makes me happy for Bram.

She does treat Bram and Garrett slightly differently, though. She keeps asking Bram if he’s thirsty, if he’s too hot, if he needs anything. He politely answers every time, declining most things she offers him. I can’t help but wonder if maybe Bram was a sickly child. Someone that could perceive himself as a burden and that two foster parents might disagree on whether they should keep him or not.

 

After dinner, we disappear in Bram’s room. As usual, his room is fresh, almost cold, and the floor isn’t wood or carpet like the other rooms, it’s tiled, like the bathroom. Bram told me that he finds it easier to clean and he is a bit of a neat freak. The thought crossed my mind though that if I asked my mom to redo the flooring in my bedroom, she would just tell me that if the floor isn’t good enough for me, I’m welcome to buy my own house.

We are in Bram’s bed, neither really sitting nor lying down, and we’re not really having a make-out session, because his mom and Garrett are in the house, but lips are definitely touching and hands are totally trying to find their ways under the shirts.

There is a moment when Bram’s soft brown eyes are looking into mine and the feeling I get is so overwhelming that I can’t keep the words in. “Bram, I love you.”

I can feel his muscles tense under my fingers. “I love you too,” he answered. And I should be over the moon. I know I should. The thing is, I definitely saw hesitation in his eyes. My panic subsides when I see how happy he looks after saying the words. Maybe Bram is just bad with handling big moments.

He kisses me again and this time, we’re just a bit less careful.

 

Ever since we said ‘I love you’, it’s like something unlocked in Bram. We are definitely closer. Physically, too. It seems like we never have enough alone time.

The following Wednesday, we even leave school straight after school. Their mom works late on Wednesdays, which is why the two of them usually eat out. Today, however, we leave Garrett in school to do is tutoring and he said he would eat with some guys from the soccer team, giving us time together.

So here I am, in his bed, lying on my back, Bram on top of me. Through his t-shirt, I can feel every one of his back muscles move in rhythm with our kisses. It makes me want more and I start pulling his shirt off. I am about to ask him if that’s okay when he completely takes it off. I guess that’s okay, then.

He has a scar on his shoulder, thin, long and black. He has another one on his left pectoral. This one looks deep. I want to ask him about it, but I want to keep kissing him more. I can ask about the scars later. When it won’t be socially acceptable to be half-naked and we will have to occupy our time otherwise anyway.

I run my fingers along the skin of his back and I am amazed by how soft his skin is. I let my lips explore his next and, somehow, it makes me think that Bram tastes and smells like the holiday.

I take my shirt off too, and any insecurity I might have had when comparing my body to the work of art that his is disappears when a mischievous smile spreads on his face.

After a few more minutes of intense kissing, something odd happens. Bram’s back loses his softness. It gets dry and rough almost instantly.

“Bram?”

“What?” he asks between kisses, more breath than voice.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“Your skin is all weird. Are you having an allergic reaction to something?”

Bram seems concerned for a moment, reaching to touch his back. “I’ll be right back,” he says before leaving the room.

He gets back less than five minutes later and his skin is as smooth as ever. For a fraction of a second, I think about asking him about it, but then his lips are on me, and I don’t care that much anymore.

 

Then a week later, something weird happens again. We are all having lunch when Bram says that he’s not feeling good. And to be honest, he does look under the weather. I’m a bit worried for him, but Garrett looks properly anxious. He leaves the table and comes back with what looks like ten bottles of water.

Leah comments that it’s a bit of an exaggeration, which I second, but Bram chugs them down one by one.

“Better?” Garrett asks but Bram shakes his head. “Okay, let’s get you home.” Garretts stands up and Bram tries to do the same but he stumbles and has to sit down again. I stand too and help Bram up.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Abby asks.

“No, we’re good,” Garrett answers. “I’m sure it’s just a drop in blood pressure, right Bram?” Bram mumbles something and Garrett sounds falsely enthusiastic when he says: “See. He’ll be all shiny and new in an hour.”

I help them to their car. “Thanks, Spier, I’ll take it from now.”

“No! I’m coming with you.”

“Simon, he’s fine. He really is. I just need to get him home quickly.”

“He doesn’t look fine.”

“Simon…”

“Garrett, I’m coming with you. If you don’t let me in the car, I’ll just follow you.”

Garrett looks at Bram. “Can you make it home?” Bram nods. “Are you fine with Simon coming?”

Bram looks at me, then looks at Garrett and says. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time.”

I don’t know what they’re talking about, but Garrett lets me in the car and I don’t need more than that. I hold Bram’s hand the entire time. His skin is rough again, like that other time. He’s warm and sweaty.

“What’s happening to him?” I ask Garrett.

“Probably the flu, or even just a cold,” Garrett answers, focused on the road as he is clearly speeding.

“It looks worse than the flu.” Bram looks almost passed out right now. His skin is grey more than brown and is skin seems almost cracked in some places.

“Bram doesn’t cope well with fevers.”

“Then isn’t Abby right? Shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”

“Trust me on this one, Spier. We shouldn’t. Simon… Bram is… It’s obvious that Bram is in love with you, and we talked about it a lot. There is something he wants to tell you. If you stay with us now, if you enter the house, you might have to see it before he can tell you. Do you think you can take it no matter what it is?”

“Garrett, you’re scaring me a bit.”

“It’s not… It’s not _that_ bad. I think. I don’t know, I’ve known forever. But it’s… it’s a lot, and no matter what you’re thinking about right now, it’s not that.”

I am properly freaking out now. What the hell is happening to Bram? Is that why he didn’t want us to be together? Is that why he perceives himself as a burden? Can I handle it no matter what?

I look at Bram lying on the backseat. Yes. No matter what is happening to Bram, I can deal with it. He is worth it. We are worth it.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

“Are you lying?” he asks.

“It depends how you define lying,” I answer. I’m not being dishonest, I just don’t know if I’m truthful either.

“I clearly don’t define it by putting your body in a horizontal position,” Garrett answers. I can’t answer though, because we arrived. Garrett jumps out of the car and runs to unlock the door as I help Bram do the same, much slower.

When we walk in, Bram tells Garrett: “Garrett, I won’t make it.” I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean dying, because Garrett doesn’t start panicking.

“Bathtub it is,” Garrett says.

“Is it clean?” Bram asks.

“I don’t know, Bram. Do we have time to clean it?” Bram shakes his head. “Then what was the point of that question?”

We get Bram to the bathroom. He takes his shoes and socks off, steps in the tub, pulls the curtain and starts undressing. “Should we leave?” I whisper to Garrett as Bram is throwing his clothes out one by one.

“No. I mean if you want to, I get it. That’s fine. But I’m staying.”

Bram finally throws his underwear out and I feel a bit uncomfortable knowing that the first time we are in the same room and he gets naked, it’s under those circumstances. Then we hear him lie in the tub. Garrett pulls the curtain a bit. It only reveals Bram’s head, and he looks even worse. I am seriously considering ignoring that Garrett knows Bram best and call 911 regardless.

“Did you drink enough today?”

“Yeah.” Bram’s voice is barely a whisper.

“When’s the last time you respawned?”

“I hate it when you call it that.”

“Humour me. When was it?”

“I don’t know. I have been a bit careless with it lately.”

“Clearly. You can’t do it again, Bram. What would we have done if it happened in the car? Or school?”

But Bram ignores Garrett and looks at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Bram, what’s happening?”

Bram is about to answer but his voice breaks. And then I go mad. Not angry, genuinely crazy. I mean, I have to right? Because Bram literally just disintegrated. Where Bram was a second ago, nothing’s left except what looks like ash. Or sand, maybe.

I try running to him, but Garrett uses his entire body to tackle me to the ground. “NO! Do _NOT_ touch it!” And I freeze. Garrett sounds assertive, but not panicked. He knows what he’s doing. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything.”

I nod, he leaves.

Garrett comes back dragging two massive jugs full of water.

“Garrett, it’s a bathroom. We could run the shower and get water.”

“Tap water has impurities,” Garrett answers as if I should have figured that out on my own. “We need pure water. Fifty liters of it.”

“Why that much?”

“Because that’s how much water there is in a grown human body,” Garrett answers.

Again, I must be losing my mind, because it sounds like Garrett is saying that whatever is in the tub is a dehydrated version of Bram that he is about to bring back to life. Like those desert plants that just resuscitate whenever in contact with water.

“Garrett…”

“Spier, I know how it sounds. Just help me.”

I take one of the jugs and I pour it in the tub, just like Garrett is doing. We pour and the sand turns into wat sand – so far so good – but it is not keeping the shapeless form it should have. It is actually taking a very specific form. A form I know. It’s like the sand is blowing to take the shape of Bram.

We finish pouring the water and it keeps getting absorbed by the sand. Garrett pulls on my arm. “Come on, Spier. Now, we let him do his thing. Let’s get something to drink. You probably have questions.” I just follow Garrett out. I don’t decide to, I just do as I’m told. I don’t think my brain is properly working anymore. I’m too stunned and dumbstruck to produce coherent thought.

I have just seen my boyfriend turn into sand and being recreated with water. Or have I? There is no way I’ve just seen that. It can’t be real. It just can’t.

We sit down in the kitchen and Garrett gets me a soda. I don’t drink it. I just stare at it.

“What is he?” I ask after a couple of minutes.

“I don’t know.”

“Garrett…”

“I’m not being evasive. I really don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Not as much as you’d think. When I was ten, my parents and I went for a vacation to Louisiana. I don’t remember much from when I was ten, but I definitely remember this one evening. We were coming back to the hotel after a day looking at voodoo and pseudo-supernatural stuff. It was pouring down. I’ve seen rain like that since. Or maybe it’s just how I remember it. Still, as we were taking a short cut through a park, we saw that black kid standing under a tree, soaking wet, looking lost and scared. We asked him what he was doing there and he answered that his mother told him to wait for her that she would be back soon. We later learned that he had been waiting there for three weeks. Just leaving to get food, God knows how. So my parents took him in.”

“That was Bram?”

“Yep. From there… it’s been quite a wild ride. Learning how things work with him. My dad couldn’t cope with it. Bram always blamed himself for my dad leaving, but the truth is he was weak. That’s why he’s my father but she’s our mom. I wouldn’t trade Bram for my dad. Not then, not now, not in ten years.”

“You probably freaked out the first time.”

“More than you. You are remarkably calm.”

“I don’t think I’ve fully processed it yet.”

“To be fair, he warned us it would happen. We just didn’t believe him. And then… well, you saw. You don’t need the full story. Here is how it works. As long as he drinks enough, he’s fine. He has to be extra careful when it’s hot, he exercises, he has a fever, that kind of thing. He has to respawn regularly though. Well… I call it that, but Bram doesn’t like it. We don’t know why but he has to completely turn to sand and be brought back once a month or so, or he loses his ability to retain water anyway and things like today happen.”

“So once a month, he… turns to sand?”

“Yep. It’s better like this anyway. When we’re rushed like today, it’s not good. There are two things that are massively important. You can’t lose any sand. If you do, you are losing some Bram. He has some scars on his body. It’s sand that got lost. And trust me, we are always very careful. We barely lost any. Grains here and there, really. The second thing is that the water has to be cleared of all impurities. Otherwise they get stuck in him. It either gets in his organs and get him sick until his body can flush them out, or in his skin tissues. That’s the black traces he has.”

“That’s why he wanted to know if the tub was clean.”

“Yeah. Usually, we keep it clean, but even dust can be a nightmare when it gets stuck in Bram.”

And then we don’t speak. I know that Garrett is observing me, looking for any trace that I need more information, that I might be freaking out. Oddly, I’m not. I mean, this story is crazy, yes. But I’ve also seen it, so I can’t pretend it’s not real. Still… shouldn’t I be more affected by my boyfriend being a supernatural creature? Or maybe I’ve always known that Bram was too perfect to just be normal. He had to be something more than a human.

“Garrett, shouldn’t I be panicking right now?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like we spend our time sharing the truth with people. I have no idea how people are supposed to react. But honestly, I’m a bit worried that you will have a panic attack later. When you’re alone.”

“My mom is a psychologist. I’m pretty sure she’ll be able to handle it.”

“Wow. You’re really a glass-half-full kind of guy!”

“How much longer until… Bram is Bram?”

We hear noise coming from the bathroom. “And your sense of timing is superb!”

When Bram gets out of the bathroom, he looks a bit tired, but he doesn’t look sickly anymore. He looks gorgeous as ever. Plus, he is just wearing shorts, so my mind is more focused on the gay than the sand right now.

He seems extremely nervous though and it takes me a ridiculous amount of time to realize that he is anxious about me and how I would react to his… condition. I still don’t know how to order my thoughts about all of this. There is just one thing I am sure of: I still want Bram. I don’t know how to say that, so I express it the best way I can. I stand up, walk to Bram, and hold him tight. He holds me back and I can hear in his breathing alone how much it overwhelms him that I would just accept him.

Which shouldn’t be surprising to him, because I full well know that if the situation was reversed, he would accept me. Because he is a loving person. It breaks my heart that he wouldn’t expect the same thing for himself. Then again, if I was made of sand, I might have trust or self-confidence issues too.

“Okay, so you respawned, Spier still wants to make lip contact, and I got to miss algebra,” Garrett sums up. “Altogether, I’d call that a good day. But I’m still going back to school, I have plans with Nick after school.”

 

We are sitting on Bram’s bed. My back is leaning against the wall and Bram’s back is against my chest. He is still shirtless and my fingers are tracing the scars I can find. There are more than I noticed last time. Most of them are quite faint and you have to look for them to see them.

“Do they hurt?”

“Sometimes. The pale ones aren’t that bad. They are scary more than painful. They just remind me of how easily, with just a draft, I could lose a hand or a muscle, or a vital organ. The black ones though… they are foreign bodies that became a part of me. Most of the time, I don’t feel them, but sometimes they burn.”

I hold him tight and I feel him completely letting go in my arms.

“Simon, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how.”

“To be fair, I don’t know how you could have either. I think that this, however scary and crazy that was, was the best way things could have played out. Maybe I just needed to see it, you know?”

“I can’t believe you’re still here.”

“I’ll always be here.”

Bram tilts his head back to kiss me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I run my fingers on his cheek and I am amazed, once again, at how soft his skin is. This thought immediately takes me back to our last make-out session, when his skin got really dry suddenly and I get worried.

“Don’t,” Bram says.

“Don’t what?”

“I’m fine, Simon. Garrett had a phase like that when we were in middle school. His mom has them regularly.”

“Phases like what?”

“Looking out for signs that I am drying. I’m fine. I’ll feel it before you see it.”

“You didn’t last time.”

“I was distracted, last time. But trust me, even you couldn’t distract me if I reach a critical point. I just went through the process, I just drank a liter of water, I don’t have a fever, it’s not too hot… I’m fine. There is nothing that can trigger me right now.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing. It’s a long-lasting debate in this house. Is it better to be alive or to feel alive? Garrett’s mom didn’t want me to play soccer at first. She was afraid I would dehydrate too quickly. But Garrett convinced her. He said that if I couldn’t do anything, there wasn’t even a point in me being alive. It was neither the first nor the last conversation on this topic we had. It always ends the same way. We all die someday. It would be a shame to not live first.”

I can’t keep myself from asking: “Are you being careful, though?”

“I am. Today shouldn’t have happened. I waited too long before going through the process, I didn’t drink enough water, I had a fever… It was an unfortunate combination. That I will make sure won’t happen again.”

“Okay.”

“Now stop ‘moming’ me and kiss me.” I obey. Things heat up quickly into an intense make-out session. I don’t even think about checking, but his skin stays soft the entire time.

 

The light outside is turning into a soft pink and we are still in Bram’s bed, both shirtless. We aren’t kissing anymore, though. We’ve been talking about diverse things, but I keep going back to Bram’s peculiarity. He answers all my questions with a patience that amazes me.

Even the nosy ones, like: “Garrett mentioned that when they found you, you were waiting for your mother. Do you remember her?” Bram stays silent for a bit and I think that maybe I went too far. That it’s too personal. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, that’s fine. The truth is… I don’t know if I remember her. I have memories from before I was ten, but every time I think about it, she has a different face, or voice, or some details change. I’m not sure what happened for me to end up under that tree, but I think my mind did everything it could to block it out.”

“So you don’t even know if she was like you?”

“I’ve wondered that so many times. There are two options. Either she was like me and something happened to her that day she was supposed to meet me. Or she wasn’t and she just got rid of her sand baby. I don’t know which story I prefer.”

“Maybe there is a third one. One in which she came back for you but you were already gone.”

“Perhaps. That’s a less sad story for me, but that would be depressing for her.”

“My beautiful boyfriend,” I whisper, “always thinking about others first.”

Bram smiles softly in the half-light. “Even if she did abandon me, I’d like to think that she’s happy somewhere. I found another family. I’m happy. But I also hope that she thinks about me, sometimes. Because I think about her from time to time.”

I link our fingers together. “Are you really happy?”

“No more or less than regular teenagers, I guess. But I have everything I need. A good family, good grades, great friends, an amazing boyfriend, good health too, considering what I am.”

“And what are you exactly? I mean… does it have a name?”

“I don’t know. We spent hours with Garrett researching it. There are very few legends about men being born from sand. Clay, dirt, bones, yes, but not from the sand. We found one Celtic story that we both like, though. It says that some nature spirits live in a cycle. They are in the stones, asleep. Then the sea, eats them up bit by bit, turning them into sand to steal the spirit. The spirit then turns into water. Until the incessant movements of the waves and the tides turn the spirit into foam. That foam gets so light that it ends up flying away. When the spirit is tired of flying, it rests on the ground, where it feels so well that it remains there, falling slowly asleep, turning back to stone, starting the cycle again.”

“That’s a pretty story.”

“I know it doesn’t fit my situation. Not by a long stretch. But it became a joke between us that if one day water doesn’t bring me back, it’s because I turned into air.”

 

Our life carries on just as before. Most of the days, I ever forget that my boyfriend is not really a regular person. Some other days, I keep checking if he’s drinking enough and Garrett makes fun of me for ‘moming him’. I think he’s happy that someone else is keeping an eye on Bram, though.

I don’t assist to another process (Garrett is right. It’ much funnier to call it ‘respawn’). Bram doesn’t really want me there and I respect his need for privacy. It must be an incredibly vulnerable moment. As much as I want to be there for him, I get it. I don’t want Bram around when I’m crying like a baby in front of my computer because Mufasa is dead (we all have our own struggles).

 

Then arrives the end of year school trip. It’s a very weird trip: We get on a cruise-like boat south of Tallahassee and we go all around Florida all the way to Jacksonville before taking a bus back home. It sounds like a retirement type holiday, but the entire class is going so it’s going to be fun. Plus, I have a boyfriend with a ‘carpe diem’ view on life, so we’re going.

The first couple of days are great. We have fun, we swim in the pool, we enjoy the view, we make the most of the stops. Plus Garrett did this amazing thing where he switched people around and Bram and I end up sharing a cabin. Needless to say that we do not use the second bed. We don’t have sex, but we come really close.

At the end of the second day, though, Bram is starting to struggle. Even though he went through the process a few days before the trip, the Floridian sun is proving difficult and the boys from the soccer team did run around quite a bit today. The air conditioning isn’t great either and we are starting to worry.

“We stop in Miami tomorrow, Garrett says. We can pretend we have a family emergency. Mom will back us up. We go to a hotel, you respawn, and then we drive back home.”

“I don’t know,” Bram says. “I’m really not feeling well. Can’t we do this here?”

“Bram, bro, where do you want me to find fifty liters of distilled water on a cruise ship?”

“Just boil it,” Bram answers.

“We never tried that,” Garrett replies.

“Garrett… You either get the air conditioning back, or I’m not making it sixteen more hours.”

“There is another solution,” I say. They both turn to me. “You turn to sand, we get you in a suitcase, a zip lock bag, _something_  and tomorrow, we tell the teachers that you aren’t feeling well and Garrett and I spend our time in Miami getting the distilled water. Then we get back here and we respawn you.”

“Don’t call it that.”

“I think Spier has a point. We need to keep it under control. I think you need a good respawn. And next holiday, we’ll aim for somewhere wet and lukewarm, yeah?”

Bram smiles. “Aren’t you fed up with rainy holidays?”

“Are you kidding? It’s my favorite weather. Spier’s too, I’m sure.” I hate rain, but I lie anyway, and Bram pretends he believes us. Then we borrow Abby’s suitcase – because the thing is MASSIVE – without telling her because it would take too long to explain, and we clean it. And I mean… I’ve never cleaned anything so thoroughly in my life. Then Bram gets in, turns into sand and we close it shut, making sure that not a grain gets out.

 

It’s so odd. Sleeping alone in the cabin, Bram a few feet away, locked in a suitcase, without even a body. I never asked him if he has any sort of consciousness in this state. I’ll ask him tomorrow.

 

Have you got any idea how hard it is to find fifty liters of distilled water in a city you don’t know and bring it back to a cruise ship? It’s quite tricky. We have to go back and forth a few times. But just before noon, we are back with the last bottles we need. A few more minutes and it will all be done. Bram will be there, and he can decide if he’d rather go home. To be honest, I think it would be the only rational decision.

That’s when we see Abby leaving my cabin with her suitcase. “Abby, wait, no. I need that a bit longer.”

“Why? So you can keep planning your hilarious prank? I've looked everywhere for this and I expected better from you, Simon. Sand? Really?”

“What did you do with the sand?”

“I thought about putting it all over your floor, but I’m not a monster. I threw it over the balcony, back to the sea, where it belongs.”

My heart drops. Stops. Explodes. So does my stomach. Maybe my brain too. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I drop everything I have and I run in, pushing Abby out of the way – who tells me something I don’t listen to. The door of the balcony is indeed open, there are traces of sand on the floor. Garrett is quicker than me and he reaches the guardrail first. I see his eyes desperately looking at the blue water of Miami’s port.

I look too. But there is nothing. Not a single trace of a naked black boy swimming to the surface. We can’t even see where Abby dropped him. Some of him probably flew away…

“Garrett… that’s not clean water.”

“I know.”

“Is he…”

“I don’t know.”

I open my mouth again, but Garrett snaps at me. “ _I don’t know, Simon_.” Then he screams. There is so much pain and frustration in his scream. I wish I could do the same. But I can’t. I can’t do anything. I can’t feel anything. At this specific moment, I don’t even know if I’m alive.

There is no Bram. He hasn’t been put together by the ocean. Not that it matters. There is no way he would have survived that many impurities. He was just… scattered. And even I am not optimistic enough to think that we’ll be able to find Bram among all the other grains of sand.

He’s gone. He’s just… gone.

Is he alive? Is he dead? Is he in pain?

Did he turn into foam?

 

 


	30. What if Simon had a terrible boyfriend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram has a crush on a boy from his study group. But Simon Spier has a boyfriend. Bram could let it go and be happy for Simon if only said boyfriend wasn't such a jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this, there are two types of fics I knew I wouldn't do.  
> 1\. E ratings (I might have done once or twice since then)  
> 2\. Fics based on a song.  
> But it was requested so here it comes. However, the song is not that important in the fic, I hope you don't blame me, I followed pretty much your entire script.  
> However, if we are going to link this chapter to Treat You Better, we are going to link it to the KHS cover because 1. The two singers are now married and that's super cute. 2. I totally stole their idea to change 'any girl' into 'anyone'
> 
> This chapter uses colors. I checked on my computer and phone and it should work. If it doesn't for you let me know, because it will be impossible to understand the chat (later in the chapter) in black and white.

Bram collapses on his bed. Today has been a long day. A five-part day that left him exhausted.

First, he had his shift at the café. Bram has a scholarship to college, but like most scholarship, it doesn’t cover the entirety of school fees and he needs the extra money. Luckily when he was in first year, he found a job at a small café with a lovely team and an understanding boss that would always arrange for Bram’s classes, exams, soccer games and weeks off to go back home. To arrange his timetable this semester, he is picking up all the morning shifts on weekdays, and a full day on Saturday. But he knows that at soon as he won’t be able to make those shifts, he will just need to ask and get a new schedule.

Then he had classes. Second year as an English major. Bram loves it, but it is proving challenging. Especially as Bram is taking extra classes, hoping to graduate early.

After class, like twice a week, Bram went to soccer practice. He doesn’t play for the college’s team, but he still joined an official team. It helps him blow some steam and clear his mind. Plus, it’s the only exercise he has time to get lately, so he desperately needs it to fight all the poor meals he’s eating at college.

Then he, Nick, and Garrett showered quickly before going to the library for their study group. One of the extra class that Bram is taking is Spanish. He thought that because he knows Latin, it would be an easy class. He was wrong. Bram would have been fine powering through the challenge, he thinks, but when Garrett and Nick told him that they joined a study group, he thought that he might as well defuse some of said challenge as well as develop what could pass for a social life. The group is both heaven and hell for one single reason. Simon Spier. Simon is cute, warm, happy, smart, kind and an incredible cook. Every week, one of them has to bring food for everyone and they have their evening meal while working on their Spanish. Simon’s weeks always taste like a dream come true and make Bram very embarrassed when it’s his turn. Simon still has a kind word for Bram’s God awful cooking every time, though. Why is it hell, then? Because not only Simon does make Bram so tongue-tied that he probably looks like an idiotic child, Bram developed a massive crush on Simon. Who is miraculously gay. But who already has a boyfriend.

Once a week, making Thursday Bram’s busiest day of the week, Bram also volunteers at the help center. He suffered from pretty intense anxiety as a freshman, and they really helped him power through so he thought he would give back this year. He has the ten to midnight shift. Weekdays are quieter, so Bram is often alone in the center and he mainly answers phone calls from people who are having a meltdown halfway through an assignment. He knows how to handle that. He would be much more uncomfortable dealing with the craziness of Saturday nights’ drunken calls or Sunday’s depressions.

Out of all the people he helped, or tried to, someone stood out. One evening, Bram got a phone call from someone who wouldn’t speak. There was just quiet breathing on the other side of the line. The hardest step is reaching out. It doesn’t make what comes next easy. So Bram followed procedure and gave the mystery caller the option to carry on via their IM platform.

There, all the volunteers are assigned a color to protect their identity. Bram is Blue. That night, he met Jacques. Ever since, every Thursday, Jacques has been messaging Bram. Bram isn’t sure why Jacques felt the need to reach out to the help center in the first place. Probably just loneliness. Bram knows he’s the only one that Jacques is contacting. He asked. Something crazy happened. Something that goes against all the training s Bram had before joining the team. The more Jacques opened up to Blue, the more Blue opened up to Jacques. Now, there is nothing Bram waits for more than those Thursday conversations, even if they are forbidden and won’t ever lead anywhere real.

Still. Now Bram is on his bed, absolutely exhausted. He sets his alarm. His shift at the café starts in six hours.

 

The following Thursday, Bram receives his first message almost as soon as he sits down at his station.

10.04 – Hi Blue. Had a nice week?

The IM platform is anonymous, so Jacques doesn’t have to sign in or even chose a username. But Bram knows instantly who this is. No one else ever asks him about his week.

10.05 – Uneventful, I’m afraid.

10.05 – Sometimes uneventful is good.

10.05 – Something happened?

10.06 – No. I’m just saying. There is comfort in routine, isn’t there?

10.06 – I guess. But I also think that I’m ready for some excitement in my life. I feel like I’ve spent two years just living in a nice routine.

10.06 – Someone needs romance…

10.17 – Sorry, I had a phone call.

10.18 – Don’t worry, I know that I’m bothering you when you’re working.

10.18 – You never bother me. Actually, I think you make my shifts manageable.

10.18 – And you make my evenings manageable. So I guess we’re even. But don’t change the subject. Should we get you a boyfriend?

10.19 – Why do you keep bringing that up?

10.19 – Out of the two of us, you’re the closest to happiness.

10.19 – Aren’t you happy?

10.22 – Don’t ‘help center’ me. You know I never would have called in the first place if I hadn’t some sort of anxiety.

10.22 – And you need to talk about it.

10.23 – I don’t. What I need is to find a way to get better. Talking to you does that. And making you happy would make me happy. So… should you find you a boy?

10.23 – I find boys. They just happen to be taken. Not that I would have a shot anyway. I can’t talk to cute boys.

10.23 – Should I be offended?

10.23 – It’s different behind a screen.

10.23 – Wait, phone call.

10.54 – Sorry, it’s been a crazy half-hour.

10.56 – Did you save many people?

10.56 – I don’t know about saving, but I’d like to believe that I help.

10.57 – Trust me. You do.

10.57 – Oh, wait. Phone call of my own.

11.18 – Let’s find you a boy easier to manage than mine.

11.19 – Trouble in paradise?

11.19 – Not really. But look, I’m very sorry to leave you alone for the rest of your shift but I have to go meet him. You know how it is. TTY next week!

 

Actually, Bram doesn’t know how it is. He had two boyfriends before. One in high school, but it was clear to the two of them that they were together because of hormones and availability more than anything else. No tear was shed when they decided to break up before college. The second one was in his English literature class last year. He was cute and smart, but he had no sense of humor and Bram quickly realized that he was bored when they were together. That didn’t last. The other boys he met were interested in Bram, but not for relationship purposes. And Bram cannot do casual sex. More than that, he is aspiring to finally having sex with someone he would be in love with. Follow his heart more than his brain or his hormones. That would be nice, right?

He really hopes that it’s what Jacques had.

He isn’t convinced, though. Whenever Jacques mentions his boyfriend, he always sounds very much in love, but it’s never entirely pleasant either. And every time, Bram can’t help but think that if Jacques was his boyfriend, Bram would do everything he can to make him happy. To never be referred to as ‘difficult to manage’.

But Jacques, even if he were single, is out of reach. Simon is out of reach. When will Bram meet a boy that he feels a connection with and that isn’t already taken? Would he be able to make the first step then?

 

Saturday morning, Simon shows up at Bram’s café with a friend of his. Like every time, his happy moon grey eyes just shoot Bram right in the heart. “Bram, hi! I didn’t know you worked here? I come here every Sunday!”

“Oh, I don’t work on Sundays.”

“Aah. Well, I might have to change my schedule, then!” The other boy coughs. Not because he’s ill, because he’s reminding Simon of his presence. “Sorry. Bram, this is my boyfriend Derek. Hun, this is Bram. He is in my study group.”

“Oh, you took Spanish too?” Derek asks.

“I did,” Bram confirms.

“Why would you stick with it after you realized you needed a study group.”

The question really baffles Bram. “I don’t know. Challenge. Education. Being able to speak to nearly half the continent.”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be having fun in college. We all know that school is actually very secondary, right?” Bram doesn’t think that he ever disagreed more with a sentence. But saying so would be rude. “I keep trying to tell Simon that,” Derek continues, “but he never listens. He keeps canceling our plans to study or go to the library. Can you tell him that the study group is enough and that he needs to loosen up?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know him well enough to give him advice,” Bram answers knowing perfectly well that if he were going to give Simon any advice, it wouldn’t be that one. “Anyway, can I get you anything?”

“Sure, we’ll have two black coffees.”

“Sure. Anything else? Simon, we have Oreo muffins today.”

Simon’s eyes start to sparkle. “Oh, YES PLEASE!”

I smile, happy to know that I could at least get such a genuine smile on his face, when Derek says: “Really, Baby?”

“What?”

“You know I love you unconditionally, right? But let’s not test that theory by gaining ten pounds, yeah?”

Bram freezes. It’s really not like Simon has a weight problem. Nor a health one as far as Bram knows. Plus, who says that to his partner in public? Or to anyone, really?

The spark dies in Simon’s eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Just coffees would be fine.”

“Sure. Coming right up.”

Bram actually feels bad for Simon. Derek seems very judgemental on his entire life. Dominant, too. And not in a sex way.

Bram can’t help but think that it’s the second time this week that he feels like he could treat his crush better than their proper boyfriends can.

 

That evening, as Bram gets home from work, Garrett is in their dorm room with Leah. “Bram, perfect timing!” Garrett exclaims.

Whenever Garrett says ‘perfect timing’, Bram knows that his timing sucks. “Really? What for?”

“Leah and I are going to get something to eat before meeting everyone. We’re going dancing tonight. Wanna join?”

For a second, Bram actually considers it. But then he thinks about the work he has to do over the weekend. “I can’t. I have too many papers due.”

“Bram… when’s the last time you had fun? You’re going to burn yourself out. I’m sure you advise people to take an evening off when they call you because they’re all stressed up.”

“You know I can’t talk about that.”

“That means yes. Come on. Everybody will be there. We even get to meet Simon’s boyfriend!”

“I actually met him today,” Bram replies.

“Really?” Leah asks, suddenly very interested. “What did you think of him?”

Bram knows that Leah and Simon are good friends. So she probably knows Derek quite well too. There is no way Bram can just be honest with her. “I’ve seen him for just five minutes. It’s hard to say.”

“It’s fine,” Leah replies, leaning back against the chair. “I don’t like him either.” That really surprises Bram. “Oh, come on! In five minutes, I’m sure he had time to be a jerk to Simon at least once. Or at least, since they were at a café, to order for him like Simon is five years old.”

“Wow, you really don’t like him,” Garrett comments.

“The guy is an idiot and a bully. You’ll see.”

“He must have qualities,” Bram tempers. “Simon wouldn’t be with him if he hadn’t.”

“Oh, he can be charming. When they started dating, I liked him so much. I thought he was perfect for Simon. And then… I don’t know. The relationship changed and the power shifted. It’s like they’re not equals anymore. It’s like… nothing Simon does is good enough. But Simon is in love, and he told me once that he wouldn’t be able to do better anyway. Which is ridiculous.”

Bram wants to see it. He wants to see if Derek is as bad as Leah says. He needs to know that Simon is in a relationship worthy of him. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll join.”

“Great!” Garrett exclaims. “You know what? I’ll even cook for you tomorrow so you have more time to work. And that you stop eating that awful thing you call food but I call future cancer.”

Garrett can be tiring and borderline hyperactive, but he is a real friend.

 

Garrett was right. Bram needed a night out. He needed to let go of some steam. And dancing until he's dizzy feels like the best way to relieve some stress. Plus, it’s fun to see everyone in a non-studious environment.

However, Bram didn’t realize how painful it would be to see Simon and Derek dance together. Every time Derek puts his hands on Simon, Bram feels this sharp, burning feeling of jealousy piercing through his body.

So when his friends decide to leave the dancefloor to go sit down a bit, it is a small liberation. Especially since Derek decides to stay on the dancefloor.

Simon ends up sitting next to Bram and Bram realizes that with the help of a couple of drinks, he can speak to Simon. He is not tongue-tied, he isn’t shy, he is… like Blue would be with Jacques. It’s an odd comparison, but that’s how it feels like. He even manages to make Simon laugh.

A laugh that dies out when Simon looks at the dancefloor. Bram follows his gaze and there is Derek dancing _very closely_ with another boy. Simon doesn’t look mad. He looks… sad and resigned.

“Simon? Won’t you go say something to him?”

“No, we had that talk before. We trust each other.”

Bram has the odd feeling that ‘each other’ isn’t the perfect phrasing for this situation. That Derek would absolutely not be fine watching Simon put his hand – and crotch, apparently – on another boy. To be fair, no boyfriend should be fine with that, but you sort of have to be when you’re asking as much from the other one.

“So he would be fine if you and I went dancing right now?”

“I’m sure he would.”

“Okay. Let’s go, then.”

“I’m tired.”

But Simon doesn’t look tired. Or rather, he looks like someone who is tired because of a tiresome relationship.

Bram wants to cup Simon’s face, kiss him, tell him that he can make him happy, take him by the hand out of the club and do just what he promised. The first thing he would do is buy him an Oreo muffin. Or twenty.

But Simon’s eyes don’t leave Derek. It doesn’t matter how much Bram likes Simon. Or how little Derek loves Simon. Simon seems properly in love with Derek and, drink or not, Bram cannot fight against that.

Simon says he’s fine with Derek dancing with that boy, but his entire attention is on them until the song ends and Derek decides to join them. Bram almost physically feels Simon relax next to him as Derek walks toward them. He sits down, kisses Simon and says “you taste like alcohol. Have you been drinking a lot?”

“No, I’m on my second.”

“Good.”

Bram has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stay silent. It would be nice if it were a genuine concern, if Simon tended to not know his limits or if he was worried that even though the nightclub doesn’t really check IDs, Simon is still underaged. But it’s not that. It’s keeping control of how much fun Simon is having.

Bram shares a look with Leah that seems to be struggling too to stay out of it. Instead, she shakes her head and says: “Si, come dance with me.”

“I just got here,” Derek pleads. “Stay with me a bit longer, Baby.” Again, that would be sweet if Simon didn’t just have to look at Derek rub his body against a stranger’s. But Simon lets Derek put a possessive hand on his thigh and answers: “Maybe in a bit.”

Bram knows that no matter what, he is never calling his boyfriend ‘Baby’.

 

10.07 – How was your week?

10.07 – Fine. I broke my routine a bit.

10.08 – Really? Well done you. What did you do?

10.08 – I went out on Saturday. Dancing with friends.

10.08 – For most students, it’s a regular weekend, you know that right?

10.08 – But I’m proud of you. Not for the dancing, just for trying something different.

10.09 – It’s easier said than done.

10.09 – I went dancing too. Maybe we were in the same place?

10.10 – It’s a campus. I’d say probably not.

10.10 – Did you have fun?

10.13 – I don’t know. I think I did, but it was also weird.

10.13 – How so?

10.15 – …

10.15 – It’s a bit pathetic.

10.16 – I perfectly recall you telling me that you and I can always be true with each other. That there wouldn’t be any judgment ever. Plus, I don’t think I would ever find you pathetic. You are this warm presence in my life that gives me strength. Actually, even if you screwed up, that would give me courage. It would be proof that one can make mistakes and still be an outstanding human being.

10.17 – I really don’t know what you see in me…

10.17 – I have the same thought every time we chat.

10.41 – Sorry for disappearing.

10.42 – Saving the campus one student at a time?

10.42 – Something like that.

10.44 – So… That night out?

10.45 – There is this boy I like…

10.45 – WHAT?

10.45 – When did that happen?

10.45 – I’m SO happy for you!

10.45 – But wait… you said ‘weird’. That doesn’t sound like a fairy tale ending is coming my way.

10.46 – He has a boyfriend.

10.46 – Oh. Sorry.

10.46 – Any chance you could steal him away?

10.48 – I don’t know. Probably not.

10.48 – The other boy can’t have anything on you.

10.49 – That’s the thing. He really doesn’t.

10.49 – Wow. Someone’s feeling confident! That’s sexy!

10.50 – It’s not that. I’m really not a catch. But that other boy is a complete control freak. He’s not even nice to the boy I’m into. It’s so frustrating to think that I would be such a better fit for him.

10.52 – I know. I feel the same way over here.

10.52 – What do you mean?

10.55 – If a guy like you was into me, I wouldn’t be an idiot. I would let go of whatever boyfriend I had, controlling or not, and I would fall in love for you instead.

10.55 – Jacques…

10.56 – I know… I’m being unfair. It’s just… Here I am with my boyfriend, whom I love, and yet I feel like if I met you, he would fade away. Which probably means that you’re too good for me and that you wouldn’t be into me anyway.

Bram has to let his stupid feelings aside and let his training speak. He is to work after all, and there must have been a reason for Jacques to contact the help center in the first place.

11.00 – I everything alright with your boyfriend?

11.01 – I don’t even think I can honestly answer that.

11.01 – Try.

11.12 – We got together halfway through freshman year. He was so handsome. I’d never met someone so handsome before. The fact that he would even look at me completely surprised me. So when he asked me out, it was like a dream come true. I was living a rom-com in real life. It was great. I don’t know when I stopped being blissfully happy. It’s just… It seems like I spend so much of my waking time worrying about what I should do to make him happy, and I don’t ever think about me. It’s like I don’t matter anymore. It shouldn’t be like this, should it?

11.20 – No, it shouldn’t.

11.20 – If that’s how you feel… shouldn’t you break things off?

11.32 – Jacques?

11.41 – I think I’m just tired. Ignore what I said. It’s just a phase. You just confuse me with your kindness and your attention. Even if it’s probably just because it’s your job.

Bram really doesn’t like where this is going. Neither personally nor professionally.

11.41 – A day or two and we’ll as in love as ever.

11.41 – Actually, I think I should stay away from confusion for a while.

11.42 – Jacques, please don’t.

11.42 – Just for a few weeks. Until I know where I stand and I’ve fixed my relationship.

Bram wants to answer, but the phone rings. He has to prioritize and Jacques, as devastating as letting him go might be, is not in immediate danger. It might not be the case of the person on the phone.

When Bram gets back to the chat, Jacques is gone. Maybe forever.

 

Potentially losing Jacques is more upsetting than it should be. He was never going to be a real part of Bram’s life anyway. But today, he confused Bram more than ever. First of all because he pretty much said that he was into Bram. And Bram, for so many reasons, couldn’t act on it. It was more important to make sure that Jacques was okay than to indulge in romance. Was it the right move? Would Jacques have opened up more if Bram had told him that none of their interaction has been scripted by his work for a long time and that he is confused by their weekly messages as well?

But what Bram really can’t get out of his head is that when he thins of Jacques, he is starting to see Simon’s face. It’s the way he speaks/type, the way he portrays his boyfriend, the little things he shared about his life… There are a lot of students on campus. But there can’t be that many gay students in a somewhat abusive relationship. Simon and Jacques are both intelligent, funny, smart, caring people whose light fades away when they mention the person that is supposed to make them happy.

Could they be the same person? How could Bram make sure? And if he did, what should he do then? Tell Simon? Keep the truth?

Would any of those result in getting Simon away from Derek? Not necessarily closer to Bram, just… away from that boy that is destroying him slowly but surely.

 

“Garrett?”

“Mmh?”

“Do you think you can be in love with someone you don’t know?”

“No. Unless, you know, you give me an actual context.”

“There is this boy I’ve been messaging.”

“Ooh. A bit of Grindr action?”

“No. Please never talk about Grindr again. Anyways. We’ve never met, just messaged. Do you think that’s enough to develop feelings?”

“Why not? The two of you have been talking. Maybe not orally, but still. Actually, I read a study saying that our generation tends to be more forward via messages, so it might even be more real that way.”

“Garrett, a Buzzfeed article is not a study.”

“So not the point. I don’t think you can fall for someone you don’t know. But I also don’t think you don’t know that boy you didn’t meet.”

“There were far too many negatives in that sentence.”

“Stop being a grammar nerd. That boy… is he meetable?”

“I’ll stop being a grammar nerd when you’ll stop making up words. But no… I don’t think meeting him is possible. I was just wondering… It was wishful thinking, really.”

“Do you wanna talk about him?”

“No, I want to get out and eat greasy pizza.”

“Sure. My treat.”

 

On Monday, when Bram gets to his dorm, Garrett and Leah are there and he sort of gets the vibe that they were waiting for him.

“Hey, Buddy, how was your day?”

“Great, until I came home to my suspicious roommate,” Bram answers getting his bag on the floor and sitting on his bed. “I’m not going clubbing on a Monday, Garrett.”

“No, I know _that_. But funny you mention that… You had fun last time, right?”

Bram immediately remembers Derek’s hands on Simon. “Sure, I guess. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking… we were thinking…”

“Okay, you suck at this,” Leah cuts in. “Bram… please tell me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that night that you weren’t… unmoved by Simon.”

Bram frowns and asks: “Are you asking me if I’m into Simon?”

“Well, are you?”

“He has a boyfriend,” Bram replies blankly.

“That wasn’t my question. And no, he doesn’t,” Leah replies. “He has a parasitic life form attached to him that is sucking all life and joy out of his existence.” The nice part of Bram’s brain wants to tell Leah that she’s exaggerating. The mean part of Bram’s brain wants to tell her that she’s too nice on Derek. The reasonable part of Bram’s brain thinks she has a point.

“He still has a boyfriend.”

“Here is how we see things,” Garrett replies. When Leah totally friend-zoned Garrett a few months back, Bram thought that it would be the end of that. But apparently, they just grew stronger as friends and are making ‘we’ statements that are usually reserved for annoying couples. “Bram, you’re my best friend. If I’m being completely honest, when I met you last year, I was really worried that this quiet boy I got shoved with was going to be a drain. But you turned out to be exactly who I needed – and probably always will need – in my life. I know I never told you that, but I see all the ways you take care of me. If I ever graduate, I know I’ll owe a lot of it to you. So, please, let me return the favor. You’re not happy.”

“I’m happy.”

“No. You’re not unhappy, but you’re also not happy. I’m not the kind of person who thinks you need a relationship to be happy, but you’ve been talking about that guy you didn’t meet, and I’ve seen the way you look at Spier… I think you’re lonely, and I think that you are not going after what you really want. _Who_ you really want.”

“And what I know,” Leah continues, “is that Simon is unhappy, really unhappy, and that he doesn’t even realize it. I’m his friend, but it’s hard to mention Derek’s faults without alienating Simon. I’ve even given him the number to the help center you’re volunteering at, but I don’t think he ever called. In his head, I think this is what happiness looks like. But Derek is turning Simon into what he wants Simon to be, and that is not even the shadow of Simon, and I really don’t want to silently witness that.”

“Look, Leah… Do I think that Derek is a jerk? Yes, I do. Do I think that he’s bad for Simon? I do. He’s bad for anyone, really. Can I do something about it? No.”

“Bram… once, when he was drunk, I made Simon play ‘who would I date if I wasn’t with Derek’. He pretty much said that he’s like to try something with you if only you were in his league.”

Bram needs a few seconds to process that information. Simon might be into him. Simon thinks that _Bram is out of his league_. For a second, Bram wishes he could see himself through Simon’s eyes.

“Leah…”

“Look, Bram… Simon is not a child. He’s a grown man making terrible choices for himself. But I think that if he realized that there is another path… maybe he would take it.”

“He’s not going to leave Derek for me.”

“Why not? Derek is an old dollar found in the dryer and you’re a diamond.” Damn. She knows how to build a compliment when she wants something. “I’m not asking you to break them up. And if you’re not into Simon, then please, do nothing, it’s really not your problem. But if you really have a thing for him… Garrett has a point. He could make you happy. You could make him happy. I think you just both need to see that.”

 

It’s like Leah planted a seed in Bram’s brain. Simon – possibly even Jacques – has a crush back on Bram. Simon is unhappy with his boyfriend. It wouldn’t be immoral to steal him away. Bram can’t help but keep picturing what it would be like. Looking into Simon’s moon eyes for a ridiculous amount of time. Holding his hand. Kissing him. Spending time just the two of them. Touching his perpetual bed hair. Be the one dancing with him when they go out. Undressing him.

_Okay, Bram, don’t go there._

But Simon is not going to leave Derek. You must be crazy in love with someone to stay with them even when they are wrong for you. A crush can’t compete with love.

 

Wednesday morning, Simon shows up at Bram’s work. “Bram, hi. I didn’t know you worked early shifts too.”

“Yes, before my morning classes.” Bram can’t help but look at Simon and try to see if he looks like someone who decided to stop messaging an online friend. As if he knew what that would look like. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I know, I’m honestly usually not up and productive that early. I just had a change in my routine.”

“New class?”

Simon looks a bit embarrassed suddenly. “New study group.”

“Cool. Which subject?”

“Spanish?”

Bram freezes. Simon isn’t bad enough to need two study groups. “So you’re giving up Thursdays?”

“Just for a while. It’s just… Derek found out that you’re gay and he has this ridiculous idea that you’re into me, and he’s a bit insecure about it. If we hang out, I’m sure he will realize that you’re very much _not_ into me and everything will be fine. In the meantime, he asked me to change study groups. Anyway. Can I have a coffee to go, please?”

“Sure.” Bram makes Simon a coffee and adds one of the Oreo muffins. “Here. That’s on me.”

“What? No, I can’t accept.”

“Please. It’s a bribe to make you come back to the study group quicker.”

Simon smiles. “Thanks.”

When Simon grabs his cup from Bram, their fingers touch and Bram knows that now id the time to be brave. It’s now or never. So he very obviously brushes his fingers against Simon’s who looks at Bram, flustered and blushing. “I think on this very rare occasion,” Bram says softly, “Derek might have a point.”

They stay like this, staring at each other, fingers touching, for way longer than the situation requires. Simon seems on the brink of saying something. But another customer walks in, the moment is gone, and Simon disappears.

Bram feels like it was his moment and he failed.

 

For a few weeks, Bram doesn’t see Simon and doesn’t hear from Jacques. This double disappearance really doesn’t help him separate the two boys in his head.

Then comes Abby’s birthday. Because she never does anything like other people do, she doesn’t want to have dinner, go dancing, have a party or anything like that. She wants to go to the karaoke. Bram knows she is a Drama major, and he wants to be there for her birthday, but he also really doesn’t want to sing in public.

Abby promises him that he won’t have to sing. That he can pick songs that she will sing instead and that he only has to clap when she’s done and pretend she was good. He won’t have to pretend. He’s heard her before. She is good.

So here is Bram, sitting in a Karaoke room, sitting between Derek and Leah who makes unnecessary eye contact whenever Derek is being a jerk. At this point, she might as well be having a staring contest with Bram.

He’s annoying quite regularly but Bram really struggled not to say anything three times already.

The first one was when Derek arrived, ten minutes after Simon, looked at Simon’s outfit and asked him if he really needed to look ‘that gay’ because Simon’s shirt is pink. Bram has seen straight men wear pink shirts, but even if he hadn’t, why couldn’t Simon look gay if he wanted to? Garrett commented on the fact that Simon was gay and Derek replied that there was still no excuse to dress ‘like a fag’. Bram hates that word. He hates it even more when it’s used as an insult from someone in the community. There is enough hostility in the world to not have it come from _the inside_. Everyone was very uncomfortable, so Abby decided to sing the first song and Leah gave Bram her first look of the evening.

Then as Simon was about to sing his first song, Derek mentioned that Simon wanted to join the musical and asked everyone to judge his performance so they could all decide together if he ‘should really waste his time auditioning’. Of course, after that Simon’s performance was stressed and unnatural. Which led Derek to comment on the fact that, really, Simon shouldn’t lose time on all of this play nonsense.

The third time was when Derek casually mentioned how hard relationships can be and how much he compromises every day to keep Simon happy.

At which point Leah’s gaze is almost piercing Bram’s skin.

Bram is looking for a song for Abby when one of the titles catches Bram’s eye. That’s the song he wants to be next. He doesn’t even want Abby to sing it. It seems fitting enough to make him power through his shyness and insecurities. He wants Simon to hear this song and he needs Simon to hear it from him.

So Bram walks up to the mike and looks into Simon’s eyes. He needs Simon to understand that this song is for him and that Bram means every word. Simon looks back at Bram immediately. When he hears the first notes and recognizes the song, Simon’s gaze gains an intensity that Bram has never seen before. He knows he has Simon’s undivided attention.

Bram starts singing. He’s not particularly good, but he’s not bad either. Not that it matters right now. It’s about getting the lyrics through to Simon, as well as the idea they convey.

 

_I won't lie to you_  
_I know he's just not right for you_  
_And you can tell me if I'm off_  
_But I see it on your face_  
_When you say that he's the one that you want_  
_And you're spending all your time_  
_In this wrong situation_  
_And anytime you want it to stop_

 

Bram allows himself to change just one detail in the chorus. So Simon knows that this song is for him. So he can’t hide behind ‘yes, but’ anymore.

 

 _I know I can treat you better_  
_Than he can_  
_And anyone like you deserves a gentleman_  
_Tell me why are we wasting time_  
_On all your wasted cryin'_  
_When you should be with me instead_  
_I know I can treat you better_  
_Better than he can_

 

As Bram is singing, he can see on Simon’s face that he understands perfectly what Bram is saying. And what Bram sees gives him hope. He thinks that, maybe, Simon is seeing that other path that Leah mentioned, and that he likes what he sees.

By the time Bram is done with the song, there is no one in the room that didn’t understand what he meant. All their friends are extremely quiet. Bram and Simon are still staring at each other. Of course, Derek is the one breaking the moment.

“See, Baby! What did I tell you? He is totally into you!” Then he looks at Bram. “Do you really think I’m going to sit here and just watch you sing love songs to my boyfriend?”

“Derek, stop it.” Everyone looks at Simon, surprised. Most of all Derek. It’s probably the first time Simon ever stood up to him, even just this much. “It’s Abby’s birthday. Please don’t make a scene.”

“You’re right,” Derek unexpectedly agrees. “I’ll deal with you later, Bram. Simon, come on. Let’s go.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“No. It’s Abby’s birthday. I’m staying.”

“You don’t seem to get it, Baby. They are trying to humiliate me. We can’t have that. So you choose. Now. It’s them, or me.”

“It’s them.” Simon’s voice is weak, but it didn’t shake and he did look at Derek in the eyes.

Derek looks shocked first, then annoyed, then disgusted and he nearly spits out: “Fine. It’s not like you’re such a catch anyway. You were just good at warming my bed.” And on those disgusting words, he leaves, slamming the door.

 

 

Simon didn’t stay for the rest of Abby’s birthday. He didn’t go back to Derek either.

Bram used his key to the café and here they are, alone in a dark, closed café, only lit by the outside lamps, enjoying an Oreo flavored hot chocolate of Bram’s making. It’s surprisingly good. He should talk to the owner and have it put on the menu.

They only exchanged pleasantries so far. Bram is giving Simon time to process what happened earlier before they can properly talk about it. He truly didn’t expect Simon to suddenly ask: “You’re Blue, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“When I called the first time, I thought someone could explain to me why I felt empty even though I was studying what I liked, I had friends and a boyfriend. But there was something in the voice of whoever picked up… something I knew. And I couldn’t. But then I could message instead and… I learned later that you volunteered there on Thursdays. I didn’t ask for your time slot because I desperately needed Blue to remain unreal. To not be falling for someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. But I already knew it was you. You, who is… so much more than I’ll ever be. What do you even see in me?”

“That’s something I wonder about you often,” Bram replies. “I really wish you could see yourself through my eyes rather than the twisted portrait Derek built in your head. Because what I see when I look at you is pretty amazing.”

It’s hard to tell in the dark, but it seems that Simon’s eyes are tearing up. “What should I do now?”

“You should… audition for the musical, eat whichever muffins you want, wear whichever clothes you like, drink what you want when you’re going out, join the tutor group again… You should do whatever makes you happy and try to build up your confidence again. I’ve heard you were even more vibrant than you are now before Derek.”

“Simon slides his hands on the table and softly puts them on Bram’s. “Bram… I know I’m not allowed to ask, but… would you wait for me?”

“What?”

“I can’t date now. I need a bit of time on my own. But I also don’t want to miss this. Us. So… would you wait for me? Not forever, not for long… and if something better comes along, I’ll understand, but…”

“Of course, I’ll wait for you. There’s only you, Simon. Actually, there was another boy, but it turns out it was you, so… I’ll wait. However long you need.” Simon picks up Bram’s hand and kisses his fingers. “How much space will you need?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you need me to disappear from your life until you’re ready, or can we be friends?”

“I’m not ready to date,” Simon answers, “but I’m even less ready to let you go, now. If you’re fine with it, I really do want us to be friends. Study together. Come here and do some work on Saturdays. Tip you well, but you’ll make it even by getting me coffees on the house. Go dancing with the rest of the crew. Talk about books, movies, and plays. Come and cheer you on game nights. Slowly fall in love with you as I get over Derek. You know… stuff like that.”

Bram knows that he’s smiling like an idiot. “It’s going to be worth it.”

“For who?” Simon asks. “You or me?”

“Hopefully both.”

“I definitely will be for me. You said it yourself. You will treat me better.”

“You’re never going to let this die down, are you?”

“Never. It’s the first time someone ever serenades me.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Simon can tease Bram as much as he wants. It doesn’t matter. Bram would do it a thousand times over. It got him the boy. Well… maybe not yet. But soon.

And even if it doesn’t, it did set Simon free. And that alone is more than enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sequel here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851692/chapters/52150807)


	31. What if they got locked in school?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon gets locked in school with Cute Bram Greenfeld as they were working on a project. This could bring them closer, but what would that mean for Blue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other day, I dreamt that the next chapter would be a comic strip. Then I woke up, realized that I can't draw, and it almost felt like my life had no purpose anymore. So in this chapter, Simon can draw. Let's give him the skills I lack.

“Simon?”

Whoever that is, I have never been so grateful. I have been reading this text over and over for ten minutes and I still have no idea what the author is trying to say. I’d take any distraction right now. I look up. It’s Cute Bram. I would definitively take _that_ distraction.

“Bram, hey.” I’m not sure what he wants. We hardly ever talk outside of lunch – or even at lunch – and there are a lot of empty seats in the library, so he isn’t here because he doesn’t have a choice.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the school is participating in the National Literature, Arts and Media Project. I had a look and it seems interesting. It gives extra credits and it will be a plus for college applications next year.”

“That sounds… very you.”

“Yes, well… I’m fine with the whole literature part of the project, I can work through the media part, but I would need help with the art part. I was thinking about finding a partner and entering the competition in the group category.” He looks shyer than ever and he is almost blushing. It is the most adorable thing I have ever seen.

Then I understand. “Oh, you mean me?”

He blushes even more. “I know. It’s not very cool to be doing extra school work if we don’t have to, but… I don’t know anyone who’s particularly artistic and you’re in the play, so I thought… never mind, it’s cool if you don’t want to, it was just an idea.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Definitely! Quite honestly, I could use the extra push on my curriculum and it sounds fun. Besides, I don’t think we ever spent time together. It will be fun.” He looks relieved and happy. I guess he wouldn’t have liked having to ask another person given how timid he can be. “And I’m sure that being around you will make me smarter. Hopefully smart enough that I won’t struggle with English homework anymore.”

Bram’s eyes fall on my paper. “I was actually going to work on that. Do you want us to have a look together?” Now, that’s a stupid question. Do I want an English genius to help me with my English homework? Of course, I do. Especially one that looks like that.

 

After two hours working with Bram, I noticed a few things:

  * He does not just look good, he smells amazing as well.
  * I was right to think that he is funny.
  * He is gentle in everything he does, and that moves me somehow.
  * He is an incredible teacher because I completely understand what I’m doing. I’m very confident I’ll at least get a B. Maybe even an A.
  * I am completely screwed because sometimes, when he looks at me straight in the eyes, I can almost hear my heart thudding.



 

I am looking forward to the project Bram wants to do. It seems fun in itself, but I also know that I’ll enjoy working with Bram.

For the project, we are supposed to submit a creative product combining all three elements and a three hundred words essay explaining our project. Bram, because he’s wonderful like that, said that he was more than happy to be the one writing the essay once we’ve drafted what we want to say in it. I think it’s for the best because he is far more eloquent than I am.

We exchanged numbers so we can also exchange ideas. I really want to show Bram that I’m on it and that he was right to pick me. That I will be competent and not just someone he knows.

 

_Hi Bram._

_Thanks again for the English homework today._

_Don’t worry about it._

_It was actually fun to exchange ideas and opinions. I’m sure my essay will be better than what I could have done on my own._

_You do know that 100% is the highest you can score, right?_

_There is no ‘better than that’_

_Personal satisfaction?_

_It still seems small compared to me getting the best grade I’ll get this year, but that’s still something_ _😊_

_Anyway, I was wondering if maybe you already had a book in mind for the project?_

_Not really. What would you like to work on?_

_I don’t know. I don’t read literature that much._

_Literature doesn’t have to be classics._

_What’s your favorite book?_

_Harry Potter._

_Let’s work on that, then._

_Really? Wouldn’t it be better to work on Lord of the Flies or Mouse and Men?_

_It’s Mice and Men._

_And I think Harry Potter would be fine._

_Literature is defined as ‘written artistic works, especially those with a high and lasting artistic value’_

_I’m pretty sure Harry Potter can fit that description._

_It definitely defined a generation and is quite timeless._

_We could definitely argue that in the essay._

_Are you sure you don’t want to work on something more academic?_

_Wouldn’t that give us a better chance of winning?_

_I think we have a better chance of winning if we work on something we both enjoy and know._

_Besides, I want to have fun with it more than I want to win._

_Wouldn’t a win look better on your college application?_

_Maybe._

_I’m just the wrong kind of nerd._

_You’re the perfect kind of nerd._

_So… Harry Potter?_

_Harry Potter!_

_Any idea of what you would like to do for the artistic side?_

_Yes, actually._

_I mean you can say no, I’m just throwing it out there._

_I was reading an article the other day about illustration and the importance of choosing the perfect scene, understanding why it is a key moment and being able to convey that through a picture, maybe even adding something to the text._

_It inspired me a lot._

_I think I’d like to work on illustrations. Maybe one per chapter?_

_That sounds like a lot of work._

_I really can’t help you with the drawings._

_Maybe I’m a nerd too._

_And you can definitely help me pick out the scenes._

_I’ve read the books dozens of times, and yet I’m sure I’ll discover something new by looking at them through your eyes._

_Okay, well if you’re up for it, it sounds amazing._

_We have until the end of May anyway so if it proves too time-consuming, we’ll have time to change strategies._

_The only thing is that I don’t know how to get the media part in there._

_Other than to edit the drawings, I mean._

_Well… if we’re going to argue the timelessness of Harry Potter, we could show that it still speaks to our generation._

_When we have enough drawings, we could set an Instagram page and post them, maybe once a week._

_Part of the essay could be about how we made that account grow._

_You know, use of hashtags, etc._

_That sounds great._

_So… It a plan!_

_Do you want to start having a look at the chapters tomorrow after school?_

_Then I can get started on the drawings at the weekend._

_I have soccer practice tomorrow after school._

_Right._

_I should have known that._

_How about I wait for you and we get some work done at WaHo or somewhere?_

_That sounds great!_

_See you then!_

_See you at lunch!_

 

 

Right. Lunch. It's almost like this Bram and lunch Bram are two compeltely different people. But no. This cute boy I get along with so well and so easily has been right there all along.

 

This project is great. I love everything about it.

I enjoy the books we are working on, and it is very nice to be able, even encourage, to dissect every part of it with someone who is equally passionate and interested. And interesting. I was right. There is so much more to the book than I realized and I am very proud that there are details that I can point out to Bram as well.

The drawing part, which is indeed a lot of work, but not as much as Bram feared, is so, so fun. Plus, I can be drawing all afternoon and say that it’s for school and it makes my mom happy. I also love – even if I would never say that at loud – Bram’s impressed face whenever I submit him a new drawing. Oddly, I love even more when he gives me notes and I alter my design, and it becomes ours more than mine.

I really like spending time with Bram. He is funny, smart, cute, and a lot of other things that I never noticed before. I can’t believe that I was pretty much having lunch with the perfect guy for over a year but that I never talked to him. That’s showing how many missed opportunities life is made of.

 

The liking Bram thing is an issue, though. First, because it’s the first time I’m crushing on one of my friends and it’s all kinds of awkward. But most importantly, I constantly feel like my mind is putting Bram and Blue into a competition. Sometimes they feel like completely different boys and I have this need to understand which one I like the most even if I can have neither. Some other times, though, Bram sort of speaks like Blue writes. Objectively, I know that it simply means that I have a type, but my brain is pushing more on more the idea that, maybe, they might be just one person.

This wishful thinking is completely confusing.

I know I can’t ask Blue. I could scare and lose him.

But then I can’t ask Bram either and make things weird between us. Bram who is probably not even gay.

Or maybe I could ask them and I just hide between false excuses to not have to face the fact that none of them wants me. Or that they both do and I have to make a choice.

 

Roughly a month after we started the project, we are finally ready to start setting up the Instagram account. We’d like to do it before the weekend so we can take advantage of the time teenagers will be on their phones the most.

But Bram also has a game on Friday. I told him that it’s fine, I would watch the game (which means that I’ll stare at his calves for an hour and a half. I did NOT tell him that) and then we can use the media room to finish the drawings before posting them.

 

The media room is on the back of the library. Because it can be used as a darkroom it doesn’t have windows and it feels like its own little world.

We spend nearly an hour on photoshop making sure that all the pictures for the first book are perfect, then we prepare each post with the description, hashtags, try out some filters and, just as we are about to post the first one, the computer shuts down.

Right… It’s the new school policy. All non-emergency electricity is shut down after opening hours to save some electricity. “Thank God for the Cloud,” I say. “At least we haven’t lost everything we’ve worked on! I can still post them tonight. Bram, are you okay?”

He looks oddly tense. “Simon, it’s after opening hours.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So the school isn’t open anymore.” Only then do I connect the dots too. Oh. Shit.

“Well… surely, they would have checked that no one was in before locking up.”

“They probably did. But this room is light and soundproof and we’re probably the only students ever to still be working at…” he checks his watch, “eight p.m. on a Friday.”

“I’m sorry, what time is it?”

“Eight! I didn’t realize either!”

I grab my back. “Come on, let’s go. The school is probably not locked yet. Let’s not panic.”

 

I don’t know if the school is locked or not, but the library definitely is. Now I’m panicking.

“Bram, what are we going to do?”

“Ring someone,” he answers calmly. Right. Yes, it’s the twenty-first century, we can do that. “But it has to be you.”

“Why?”

“I always leave my phone in my car on game nights.”

“Fair enough.” I get my phone out of my bag. The battery is dead. I recall all the stupid, useless things I did with my phone today and I hate myself. I show the dark screen at Bram, but he already understood the problem. “Okay, it’s fine. Let’s not panic,” I repeat to convince myself more than him. “We can’t use the computers either, but there is a landline in Mrs. Pills’ office.”

“No, there isn’t,” Bram replies. “They are having some work done in the librarian’s office, so they moved everything to the main admin block.” I don’t question how he knows that. The library is clearly his domain.

“Okay, well we just have to wait until someone worries about us.”

“My mom is away for the weekend.”

“My parents think I’m at Leah’s.”

“Think?”

“Well, I was definitely supposed to go there when we were done.”

“Okay, so Leah, then?”

“Leah is… I love her with all my heart, but she probably is going to think that I stood her up and sulk. Even if my phone was on, I’m not even sure she tried to call me yet.”

“So… We can’t reach the outside world, and the outside world doesn’t know we went missing?” He sums up.

“Pretty much.”

I expect to see on Bram’s face the reflection of my own anxiety, but he simply looks determined. “Simon, we have two options, and I’m fine with either. So you decide. We can wait for the site team to come in tomorrow, or we can try to break a window or something.”

I am very surprised at how calmly he presented that last option. “We can’t break the windows,” I say. “They’re bulletproof.” Welcome to America.

“I know. But I thought maybe you needed to try.” Given the circumstances, it’s probably the most thoughtful thing he could have said.

“How do we even know that the site team will be there tomorrow.”

“Because the library is opened on Saturday morning for independent studies.” I did not know that. “They should be there before eight. That’s less than twelve hours away. So, what do you say, Spier… can you spend twelve hours with me in a library?”

“Definitely!”

 

As I mentioned, I was a bit panicky at first. But this turns out to be quite fun. There is a sense of forbidden that I enjoy. I always follow the rules, and it is nice to do this, especially as technically, it is not my doing, so I carry none of the guilt.

It’s also very nice to spend time with Bram. As we are in a library, we recommended each other books and I am surprised to see that we have quite similar tastes. Then we just got the padding cushion off a few armchairs and made a comfy little spot to sit and talk. If I don’t feel guilty about being in school when I’m not supposed to, I definitely feel guilty about what I’m feeling right now. It’s not fair on Bram to want him to reciprocate feelings he doesn’t know about and probably would only get for a girl. It’s not fair on Blue to keep emailing him like an online boyfriend when there is this real-life boy that makes my heart race, and that I never told him about.

And yet I enjoy the moment enough to silence the guilt and I am just having the time of my life with a boy I barely even acknowledged a few weeks ago.

 

When we start getting hungry, we both scavenge our bags. I have Oreos, he has Reese’s. Once more, I picture Blue. Blue who knows me so well. Blue to whom I can tell anything. Almost anything. How can I discard him like that? Blue should be the obvious choice. The only choice. But he is behind a screen and is not closer now to agreeing to meet me than he was at the beginning of all of this.

What if I actually have a shot with Bram and let it go for Blue only to get nothing in return? Bram is here. Bram is real. Bram makes my stomach go funny. Bram… Bram is probably straight. But ‘probably’ leaves room for hope.

 

We end up lying side by side, between shelves of books, cushions under us, the room only lit by the emergency exit lights, and something outside, not close but not so distant, which might be the football pitch lights that someone forgot to switch off. I can’t believe that they use less energy than a couple of computers, but I can’t complain about it. I can’t complain about anything that led to this moment.

“It reminds me of the sleepovers I had when I was a kid,” Bram comments. “You know, when you build pillow forts and sleep in them.”

“I would so love to build a pillow fort right now. I’m sure there would be everything we need in the drama department.”

“It would be quite fun to scavenge the school,” Bram agrees. “Use the sports equipment we never get to, help ourselves in the kitchen, peek in the teacher’s room…”

“I don’t want to know what’s in there,” I say and Bram laughs.

“Okay, what would you do, then?”

“Definitely the kitchen thing. I would have fun with the drama props. And I would check if the rumor is true that the nurse has a drawer full of condoms.”

“A drawer? Do you really need that many?”

“What? No, I wouldn’t take them, I… Well actually it might be smart to take a few for when I need them.” Then I full-on blush. Aren’t boys not supposed to advertise the fact that they never had sex.

Bram apparently reads me like an open book, because he says: “Don’t worry about it. If I took any, it would be for down the line too.”

“Really? No girl in the picture?” Okay, it’s a very convoluted way to ask what I really want to know, but if he tells me he is into a girl, I’ll know for sure. Maybe I’ll get over him and I will finally be able to focus on Blue only.

“No…,” he says, sounding a little sad, as if my question disappointed him. “No girl, no.”

I am so close to asking him if there is a boy, then. But I chicken out and say nothing.

It’s getting cold and I shiver. Bram gets his sports jacket out of his bag, shifts closer and lay it on us. Our arms are touching now, and it makes me shiver again, for a completely different reason.

If I extended my fingers, I could hold his hand. Would he let me? I know I shouldn’t, but I think about missed opportunities and for a second, I think that it would be riskier to not try anything. That the possible awkwardness is definitely worth the possible happiness.

Our eyes meet before I can move and time seems suspended. I’m probably imagining it, but I think I can hear Bram’s heartbeat. He looks at me and my organs turn into jelly. His eyes fall to my lips. It’s an eye movement smaller than a millimeter. It’s a moment that lasts less than a second. And yet, it seems more obvious than a flashing neon sign.

Now, I’m almost sure I have a shot. Oddly, this realization stops me. I need to sort things with Blue before sorting them out with Bram. I owe him at least that.

“Good night, Bram.”

He looks both disappointed and relieved. Unless I am simply projecting my own feelings on him. “Good night, Simon.

 

When I wake up, a pale pink light is coming through the windows. The sun is rising. It must be around five a.m.

I realize that Bram and I are not lying side by side anymore. He is on his back, my head rests on his chest, and his arm is wrapped around me. My heart skips a beat. When did that happen? Should I move? Would that wake him? Surely it’s not right for me to let this last any longer. Then again… when will I have another opportunity to listen to his heart?

So I stay there, warmed by Bram’s body more than the jacket, and let the sound of his heart lull me back to sleep.

 

I get woken up a second time by a nice sensation. It takes me a few seconds to understand that it is Bram, gently playing with my hair. It is so enjoyable that I could stay like this for hours. After a few minutes, though, as I get more awake and therefore more lucid, I realize that it is more confusing than pleasant.

I shift my head and look at him. His eyes are wide open. This wasn’t some half-asleep reflex. It was intentional.

For a moment, he seems mortified, but it is quickly replaced by determination. He looks at me like he wants me. Like he is ready to take a chance on me. And I understand more than anyone how scary that is. It’s coming out, hoping that the other likes us, and shares our sexual orientation all at the same time.

I know I can’t. There is still Blue, out there, who doesn’t deserve this. And yet I want this too.

_Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue…_

Our lips touch.

_Bram._

His hand cups my face and mine fall on his side. Bram’s lips are soft and lingering. This moment is incredible and perfect. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I wouldn’t even trade it for Blue.

We break apart and Bram looks equally happy and guilty. Like when your mom makes cookies for later, but you take one anyway. It tastes amazing, and you totally want to go for seconds, but you also know it wasn’t yours to take. Not yet anyway.

“Good morning,” I say, smiling.

He relaxes a bit. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Great. But I was apparently space-consuming.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“I noticed.” He smiles, but that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Does he regret kissing me? If so why? He is so nice, and his hand is still on my neck. I can tell he wants this.

I sit up to give him some space to think. He stretches and gets up. “We should put all of those away before anyone comes in,” he suggests, picking up a cushion.

I feel him slip away and this is when I stop fighting it. I let my Simon logic take over and I take a leap of faith of my own. “Blue, wait.”

Bram stops mid-step. He turns around and there is more hope in his eyes than I ever saw before. “What did you say?” I am sure now. Grammatical, cute Blue and grammatical, cute Bram are the same person. Both my ideal boys combined into the perfect (potential) boyfriend. How can this be true? How am I so lucky?

I stand up and get closer to him. “I said I know it’s you.” This is pushing it a bit, but he doesn’t need to know that. “There are those two absolutely perfect boys in my life that sound so alike, and… I’m not just seeing what I want to see, am I?”

“No,” he whispers, our lips now inches away, pulled together like magnets. “I… I thought I was the one bending the reality to make my wishes come true.”

“Blue…”

“Jacques…”

And our lips are back together. This time, everything else disappears. The school, the shelves, the books, even our bodies. I am nothing but lips and fragments of skins where we touch. This is incredible. Freeing and a revelation at the same time.

So I keep kissing him.

Until…

“What on Earth are the two of you doing here?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this chapter isn't very realistic. Then again, neither is Bram turning into sand and no one complained about that one, so I'm sure I get a free pass.


	32. What if they were soulmates?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has a mark on their wrist that blooms when touched by their soulmate. Any chance that could be Jacques?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone seemed to have had a go at the 'soulmate mark' AU.  
> It's my turn now.

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 25 at 7.42 AM

SUBJECT: Dream

 

Blue,

 

I had a dream last night. You and I met. You were faceless, but I knew it was you. And we touched. My mark opened and it was so colorful. All the shades of blue, and some strokes of green. It was beautiful, truly.

It didn’t even feel odd to see colors and that shape that has always ever been in shades of grey. It felt right and true.

Because it was you.

 

Love,

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 25 at 8.27 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Dream

 

Jacques,

 

It is a very sweet dream. I might say that I have had the same one once or twice, and that’s just when I was awake. But that’s just what it is. A dream. And it terrifies me.

Statistically, it is extremely unlikely that we have met our soulmates yet. And even if we did, do you realize how much luck we would need to be each other’s?

Which is why we need to keep things online. By now, I feel like I totally fell for you and the truth would simply destroy me. I don’t know what would be worse. If we touched and our marks didn’t open, or if they opened but remained black.

I know it’s not what you want to read, but we can’t both be carried away by the dream. We would just be building a big heartbreak. I think it will already be hard as it is when one of us meets their soulmate.

Please do not read this as me not wanting to meet you. I am dying to see you, touch you and see what happens. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.

 

Love,

Blue.

 

 

I feel so empty after sending that email. I don’t know what was the hardest: telling Jacques no to something I want as hard as he does, or having to finally admit that the dream we share can’t be true.

But it had to be done. As much as I want to meet Jacques, as much as I want to touch him and find out, I know the truth. I understand statistics. It won’t be the answer we want. Then again, maybe it would be easier to let go, then.

Here is the truth: I don’t want to let go of Jacques. I’d much rather stay in this painful limbo but still have the possibility, as faint as it is, of a maybe.

My eyes fall on my wrist and I touch the other pair of eyes imprinted there, as closed and black as ever.

 

We all get born with a mark on our wrist, like a tattoo. It’s small enough that it could generally be covered by a watch. The mark is always black a represents something that opens. Always. For most people, it’s a flower or something with wings, but it can be anything else.

When you touch someone, most of the time, nothing happens. But two things can happen: the mark can open and remain black. If that’s the case, when you let go of the other person, the mark closes again. It means that the other person is what is called your Number Two. It’s a stupid name because you can have more than one Number Two. It just means that the two people are very compatible. It tells you that the two of you would be incredibly happy together.

Still. No one really pursues their Number Two. Because it is a rule of the universe that one day, you will meet someone that will open your mark and color it. Once the mark is coloured, it never closes again. Because you found your soulmate.

I don’t know what would hurt more. If Jacques doesn’t open my mark or if he does but it remains black.

I look at the stupid thing again. It used to make me dreamy and long for the future. Right now, though, I hate it.

First, because it’s different from the norm. I’m black, gay, and half-Jewish. Wasn’t that enough? I have never met anyone else with eyes as a mark. Although Garrett loves it. He says that we have to be soulmates because his is a pair of glasses (which is incredibly unique too), and that they _at least_ open if we touch long enough. We both know this isn’t how it works, but it is a nice joke. Especially since he didn’t stop making it when I told him I was gay. The joke works because marks usually go together. Which is why Nick had his hopes up when the new cute girl Abby showed us her rose mark and the following soccer practice, he said that it would go perfectly with his bee mark, completely ignoring that at least twenty other girls in our year have a flower on their wrist. Of course, when they ‘accidentally’ touched, nothing happened. Simon Spier has a rare, though not unique, mark that I really wish I had. Simon has a book on his wrist. Some days, I used to let myself dream that eyes go with books and that if we touched, some dreamy moon-grey eyes would open on my wrist. That was before Jacques.

Which leads me to the other reason I hate the mark. Jacques and I have a bond. I think we could be happy. I think he would open my mark. Even though I never heard of anyone trying to have a relationship with someone who didn’t open their marks, we all know some people who dated one of their Number Twos. Sometimes, they even stay with them after meeting their soulmates, because they are happy and the life they build it more important to them than something hypothetical. If I believed in that, I would meet Jacques. I would be with him color or not. But I can’t, for historical reasons.

When I was a child, I used to as my parents to hold hands and let go again and again and again, just to see their marks open and close. I loved it. Until one day, my dad came home and his mark wasn’t closed anymore. It was a bright open sunflower. They tried to ignore it for a while, but I know that it’s the days that destroyed my family. I don’t blame my dad, and I know that my mom doesn’t either. She knew that would happen to one of them. For my dad, the possibility of perfection was better than the reality of great. Even if they were happy. Even if we were a family.

I think he is happy now. I don’t know. We don’t really talk about her that much. He realizes that she’s the reason he abandoned me and that it hurts, even if I understand.

So I won’t settle for less than an open mark. I think I would stay with Jacques even if someone opened my mark. Even if that someone was Simon Spier. But I will never trust that Jacques would do the same for me.

 

When I join the lunch table the following day, everyone seems to be discussing something juicy. I would like to say that I am above whatever that is, but sue me, I like gossips too. “What’s happening?” I ask Garrett.

“Do you know Kyle Vaughn?” Abby answers immediately.

I turn to her. She looks over the moon. I hope something good happened to Kyle, otherwise, she’s an awful person. “I do.”

“When he arrived in history this morning, he had a bright colorful peacock with his tail widely spread on his wrist!”

The news surprises me. It’s so rare to find your soulmate in high school. “Who is it?”

“A sophomore,” Abby answers again. “I don’t know her name.”

“Lydia Scott,” Garrett answers. So it’s someone from the school. It’s even more surprising. With the number of people we brush in the corridors every day, we probably touched everybody by now. Apparently, they never did.

“You had a massive crush on her in elementary,” Nick comments. “Are you devastated?”

“No, because I’m saving myself for when Bram and I will have touched enough for his body to surrender and open his mark already.” Everyone smiles happily. They are used to Garrett’s joke. I think at this point, if we told them that we were a thing, they would believe it. I only now realize that if I come out, people will gossip about Garrett too. I suspect him to have done that on purpose. To divert some of the gossips.

“How did it happen?” Simon asks.

“From what I’ve heard,” Abby starts. She is _so_ into the soulmate things. I guess it’s easier when you don’t have to worry about being gay and randomly outed, or an online sort-of-boyfriend that can’t be your soulmate. Or even worse, having your mark opened by a girl. Can that happen? I don’t have time to overthink this because Abby continues “they just bumped into each other – literally – just before homeroom. And it happened.”

“That must be so weird,” Leah comments. “Touching someone you barely know and suddenly knowing that the two of you are meant to be…”

“I think it’s even weirder the other way,” Abby replies. “Dating someone without knowing, letting yourself fall without knowing and then having to find out the truth. That’s hard.” Yes, it is. Which is why I don’t want the answer.

“Well I think it’s weird either way,” Garret says. “Even the whole concept… at some point, our free will is going to be taken away from us, and we will be happy about that.”

“Some people decide to not enter a relationship with their soulmates,” Simon counters.

“Oh yeah? How many?”

“Are you saying that you don’t want a soulmate?” Leah asks, surprised and skeptical.

“Oh, no, I do. Which is even more effed up. In theory, I realize that there is something wrong with it, but the second those glasses unfold, whoever for, I’m going for it. Bram, hold my hand again and let’s see if we’re meant to be today.”

That’s not at all how it works. But when he offers me his hand, I touch his fingers anyway and he pretends to be devastated when nothing happens.

“Well I can’t wait to have my free will taken away,” Abby concludes with dreamy eyes. I hope for her no one takes that sentence out of context.

 

My mom works late shifts on Wednesdays, so I get to Garrett’s every week after soccer practice, we do homework in his living room, we cook with his dad, we watch some crap on Netflix and I get home. I am not sure when exactly it became a thing, but I love this routine.

“Did you really have a crush on Lydia Scott?” I ask Garrett as we are swapping from algebra to geography.

“Yes. I was nine, she was eight, she was super pretty with her ponytail, and I was so sure that if we held hands, my glasses would open and so would her guitar case.”

“Her mark is a guitar case?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t have paired that with a peacock, would you? Anyway. Nothing happened, obviously, and I was so sad for so long.”

“Really?”

“Well… A week, but when you’re nine, it might as well be a decade.”

I laugh. “True. So… that thing about losing free will… That’s really how you feel?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. People do make the choice to be with their soulmates. But do they do it because of that person or because they have been told on and on that it is what you are supposed to do? You know, like wash your hands after using the bathroom.”

“That’s hardly the same thing.”

“But you see the point.”

“I do.”

“Take your parents, for instance. I’m sure your dad is happy. But is he really happier than when he was with you and your mom? His answer would probably be yes, because otherwise, he’s a dick for leaving his family, but how much of that is the placebo effect?”

“So if you were with your Number two and someone colored your wrist, you would stay with them?”

“If I’m happy, yes.”

“And you would stay with someone whose wrist has been colored by someone else.”

“Sure. If I can trust that they are not going to hold it against me forever. Now, however, if I’m single, or not completely in love, and someone opens my mark, I would give it a go without thinking twice.”

“I don’t think you could actually put your money where your mouth is.”

“Why not?” he asks, surprised and maybe a bit offended.

“I don’t mean just you… No matter how happy you are, if someone told you that you could be happier, everyone would like to check. That’s human.”

Garrett doesn’t reply. I don’t know if he agrees with that, or if he understands that I need to believe that to not hate my dad.

“Did you know that my grandparents aren’t soulmates?” he asks instead.

“The ones I met?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve seen their wrists. They are colored.”

“Not by one another.”

“Really? They both passed on their soulmates?”

“Oh god no. Aren’t you supposed to be smart? The dates wouldn’t be right.” Of course not. Until 1983, it was illegal to get married to someone who wasn’t your soulmate. It’s legal now, but it’s still very frowned upon, especially if you’re not even Number Twos. Probably as much as being gay.

“Then how did they get married?”

“They got a special derogation. They both lost their soulmates. One in a fire and the other one from pneumonia. They met at a support group and fell in love. It was a bit of a leap of faith, because they couldn’t even know if they are Number Twos since their marks were already open. But they got married and had a family. Which is good for me, I guess.”

“Do you think they ever wondered about what could have been?”

“I’m sure they did. But they never let that go in the way of their lives and happiness. What good would that have done? It’s not like their soulmates were somewhere waiting for them.”

That was quite a unique story. For a moment, it makes me wonder about a world where love would be just that: luck, choice, and leap of faith. I’m sure I would choose Jacques in a world like that.

Mr Laughlin comes back from work and enters the kitchen with grocery bags, like every Wednesday, saying: “Did that mark open today, boys?”

“Sorry, Mr Laughlin. I’m still not family.”

“What a shame,” he replies with an easy smile. I never came out to him, but I somehow have the feeling that he knows.

We clear our things while he puts the groceries away. Like every Wednesday.

 

Jacques and I are still emailing, but we don’t discuss soulmates or meeting anymore. I know we should cut things off, have a clean break, now that we know this isn’t going anywhere. I can’t though. It’s too late. I had to admit the fact that I am in love with him. Not falling, not nearly there, but properly in love.

He is on my mind all the time, he is the person I talk to when I want to talk because I know he will understand – even though we have forbidden topics now, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel smart and important.

I think it would be easier for me to agree to meet him and risk the disappointment of not being made for one another than stop emailing.

It is getting very confusing for another reason. I know who Jacques is. I can’t ignore any longer the fact that the way he phrases things, the details he lets slip about his life and the things he mentions from school all fit Simon Spier perfectly. It can’t just be wishful thinking on my part.

My real-life crush and my online love interest are the same person. That should be the best thing that ever happened to me, but I can’t help but think that it just divided by two my chances of one of them being my soulmate.

 

Then the worst thing happens. It’s lunch, and I am silently pining over Simon, like every day. If I reached over the table and touched his fingers, I would know. Just like that.

I am listing plausible excuses I could give for doing that when Cal Price, with the dreamy blue eyes – which could be the most beautiful ones in school if it weren’t for Simon’s – and nice bangs, stops by our table.

“Hi guys, I have the new scripts for the play,” he tells Simon and Abby.

I think last year’s play and how I went to every representation just to see Simon on stage. I know this year will be the same. I’m pretty sure I could convince Garrett to come with me.

Then Simon grabs his copy and his fingers brush Cal’s. Both their marks open. Thank God they stay black and close again once Cal let’s go of the script. From what I’ve heard, you can’t ignore you touched your soulmate. You physically feel it in your wrist. But you can’t feel a Number Two and they have no idea what happened.

Or they would if Abby didn’t shriek.

“What?” Simon asks, worried.

“Touch again and look at your wrists!”

Cal and Simon exchange an embarrassed look, but they touch anyway and Simon looks at his book unfolding with wonder in his eyes. Even more than the mark opening, that’s what nearly kills me: how happy he looks.

When Cal asks Simon if he has plans after school, I mumble something about English homework and I leave. I can’t witness that.

 

I end up sitting on the bleachers, feeling shitty. When the bell rings, I don’t move. Having something else to focus on would certainly help, but I just can’t be in a room with Simon right now.

Someone suddenly appears next to me and I don’t have to look to know that it’s Garrett.

“Abraham, is that your first time missing school on purpose?”

“Nope. The day my dad left, I went to a park and I spent the day counting the ratio of color to black marks.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“My dad leaving or the ratio?”

“You being in love with Spier.”

I finally look at him. His face is nearly blank. There is no judgment, no teasing, no sarcasm on there. Maybe a hint of concern. “Am I that obvious?”

“I don’t think so. I just know you pretty well.”

“Is he going out with Cal?”

“I don’t know. Look, Bram… if your mark didn’t open when you touched him, there is a reason for that, even if it hurts.”

“I never touched him.”

“What?”

“I never touched Simon’s skin. Not even once.”

“Wait… are you telling me that you had a crush on him forever, enough to fall in love with him, and you never even tested your theory? Not even when he came out?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because what are the odds?”

“They’re low,” Garrett admits. “But there is still a chance. I would still like to know.”

“What if nothing happens? What if I’m just a Number Two?”

“Bram… I love you, man, so this comes from the best possible place. You’re an idiot.”

“Hum… thanks?”

“Look… you like numbers. When are people most likely to meet their soulmates?”

“Between twenty-four and thirty-two years old.”

“There you go. Best case scenario, it’s seven more years. Are you going to not live until then? I know that what happened with your parents scarred you, but… just because you want to meet your soulmate now doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. If you’re Simon’s Number Two, it gives you a chance against Price. If you’re not, maybe it’s your green light.”

“To do what?”

“To go ahead, live your little crush, and know that it won’t be hard to let go, because you’re not meant to be. Not even a little.”

I don’t know if I agree with what Garrett said, but it helps.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 22 at 8.37 PM

SUBJECT: My mark opened today

 

Blue,

 

I know it’s a bit of a forbidden topic between us lately, but my mark opened today. A boy from school touched me and it happened. don’t worry, he’s not my soulmate, the mark is still very much closed, and very much black.

In all honesty, I was happy at first. But then we talked after school and he was almost perfection. Nearly. Perfection is you. Which means that if he opened my mark, surely you will color it. I know you think I’m being unrealistic, but I really think that something this big and magical will happen when we meet. I mean… it has to, right?

But you know what? Even if it doesn’t, I don’t care. I would rather be with you than him, and that’s even if you don’t open my mark. I choose you.

Please choose me too.

 

Love,

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 22 at 8.52 PM

SUBJECT: I don’t want to be scared anymore.

 

Simon,

 

Let’s do this.

 

Love,

Bram.

 

 

This is the boldest thing I’ve ever done in my life. My heart is pounding so hard that it hurts.

Now I wait.

After thirty minutes, my stomach starts to hurt.

After an hour, I try to convince myself that Simon hasn’t checked his emails yet. Otherwise, that just means he doesn’t want Blue to be me.

After two hours, I want to cry. Simon wouldn’t send an email like that and not check his inbox. I’ve been glued to my phone since I hit send, and I can’t believe that he hasn’t done the same.

He likes Blue more than Cal. He likes Cal more than Bram. It’s just how it is. It hurts more than my dad leaving. My dad left for his soulmate. Simon left for less than that, right after promising he wouldn’t.

Garrett’s right. I’m an idiot.

 

When my phone pings, the last thing I expect is to see a Gmail notification, but here it is.

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Feb 22 at 11.03 PM

SUBJECT: I’m in your backyard

 

 

The email is actually empty. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need more than this subject line to be propelled from depression to bliss. Within a minute, I have shoes on, a hoodie and I sneaked up to the backyard.

There, in the swing seat, is Simon Spier. No one has ever looked as beautiful and full of grace as him right now.

I sit next to him. The moon lights his face and I am dying to kiss him. Suddenly, I’m not excited anymore. I’m nothing more than an anxious mess.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says softly. “I asked Nick for your address and he had to ask Garrett, and then he asked why, and I had to come up with something, and it just took forever.”

“But now you’re here,” I reply. I need to make this moment feel real.

“I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’ve been right there the entire time. I can’t believe you witnessed the Cal thing. I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but still.”

We stay silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. We’re just getting used to each other’s presence.

“I really want to hold your hand,” he says and I look at the smoke his breath creates in the air. Funnily enough, I don’t even feel the cold.

“What if nothing happens?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course, you can. You know that, right?”

“It’s something I always wanted to tell you, but after you told me what happened with your parents I didn’t know if it would help or if it would be insensitive.”

“I’m listening.” I hope he knows that whatever it is, I won’t judge him, I won’t tell anyone, I won’t think he’s being insensitive.

“My parents aren’t soulmates.”

“Happy Number Twos?”

“No. not even that. They don’t open each other’s marks. They met in High school and they fell in love. In college, they both met a couple of Number Twos, but they wouldn’t break up for anything but the one. My mom met her soulmate when she was doing her Ph.D. She told my dad that if he could give her a good reason to stay with him, she would. He told her that he would never take her for granted and he promised to always do his best to make her happy. So she stayed. My dad met his a few years later. He didn’t even think twice, but as a joke, he asked my mom to give him a good reason to stay. She told him she was pregnant. They say that they never regretted their decision. Not even once.”

“Simon…”

“Bram, I love you. I know it’s a bit early to say, and I also know that the real you is going to be a bit different from Blue, but there is no doubt in my heart that I am going to fall so hard for you. I don’t know if we’re forever, and I’m not promising you that. What I’m telling you is that even though I really want us to be soulmates, even though I love the idea of two souls being so perfect for each other that they have been linked by fate… I also truly believe that we can choose. That free will Garrett talked about, I don’t think it’s gone. If I can choose you over Cal, I definitely can choose you over a stranger.”

My heart is beating so fast that it’s almost uncomfortable. “I love you too, Simon.”

A big happy smile blooms on his face and I feel his fingers find mine. We don’t break eye contact to look at what’s happening. We don’t need to. There is this warm tingling pulsation in my wrist that I never felt before and that I couldn’t properly describe with words.

Simon’s smile gets wider but I’m sure my grin is bigger.

Slowly, still not looking down – no rush, the marks are open for good now, taking time to enjoy this moment, we lean in. When our lips finally touch, it’s better than I even imagined.

“ABRAHAM LOUIS GREENFELD, IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT!”

I jump and my mom is at her bedroom window, looking fiercely at us. I don’t know how to explain this, so I raise up my wrist. In the dark and from that far, she probably can’t see it, but she understands immediately. Against the light, I can’t really tell the look on her face, but she sounds much nicer when she says: “Ten minutes.”

“Does she hate me now?” Simon asks, nervous. Almost immediately, he adds: “Your name is Abraham?”

“It is. I’m sure you understand why I go by Bram. And I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. If she did, she would be down here dragging me back inside.” Simon takes my hand and turns it so he can look at my wrist.

“I think it’s my eyes,” he says. And indeed, the eyes are moon-grey. Just like I hoped they would. “I’m sorry. It’s a boring color.”

“I love your eyes. That might be my favorite part of you.”

I’m pretty sure he blushed. I take his wrist and look at his mark. The book is open and it seems like what is written in there could be legible with better light and a magnifying glass. Whatever it says, it’s going to be my new favorite book.

“I should go,” he says when we manage to get our eyes off our marks.

“We have eight more minutes,” I counter.

His lips are back on mine before I can even finish the last word.

 

When I get back in the house, my mother is in the kitchen and she made hot chocolate.

“I thought you were upset I was up so late.”

“As if you’ll be able to sleep any time soon.”

I sit with her and she is smiling. “So… who is that boy?”

“Simon.”

“Did you two know each other before touching?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Sorry. Yes. He is in two of my classes and we have lunch together.”

“Did you think that might happen or was that a surprise?”

“It was a bit of a surprise, but I really hoped it would happen.”

“Good. I’m glad for you, baby.”

“Mom… Are you upset that I found my soulmate before you found yours?”

“Oh, Bram, you have no idea what being a parent is, do you? It’s like every day, I am praying that your life will be better than mine. I would sacrifice any part of my happiness to increase yours.”

“Dad didn’t.”

Her smile fades a bit. “Bram, your father… had a choice to make and he did what he thought was best. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you and that he wouldn’t walk through fire for you.”

We stay silent for a few minutes, drinking the hot chocolate, then she says: “Okay, show me that mark of yours.” I do and she studies it for a moment. “Are those his eyes?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Yes. They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“Very. What’s his mark?”

“A book.”

“That’s very you.”

“I think we will be able to read what’s on it.”

Her smile gets even happier. “That’s even more you.”

 

Later, in my bed, I still can’t sleep. I wish I asked for Simon’s number so I could text him. I’m pretty sure he’s awake too.

My heart is still racing, my stomach feels funny but in a good way, and I feel butterflies whenever I think about the kiss.

But more than that, I feel so blessed. Jacques really is Simon Spier. Simon Spier chose me over everyone else. Not that it matters because Simon Spier is my soulmate. I’m so happy I could cry. All my wishes came true.

Tomorrow will be awkward, but I will wear the mark proudly. Even if that means Garrett is going to spend the entire day pretending to be heartbroken.

 

 


	33. What if Simon asked Blue who he was and Bram answered?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon really needs to know who Blue is, so he asks. Against all odds, Blue gives him enough clues to work it out. Was it a smart move from Bram?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Precisely six months today (roughly at the same time too), I posted a story with five chapters to this site. I thought this would be that. And here we are.  
> Thank you all for reading, and especially thank you for all your kind words that rebuilt a self-confidence that was long gone.  
> Enough to soon be working on projects out of this website, without the bases of someone else's work.
> 
> I would love to tell you that we could celebrate with five new chapters, but between work and a nasty cold, I really didn't have time. But one chapter wouldn't do. So I give you two.  
> Good enough.

 

**Simon**

 

I look at the computer screen and I could cry. Why am I so stupid, why did I have to send that? Did I really hope that something good would come of this or am I just trying to sabotage myself?

I mean… at this point, it is the only thing that could make my life any worse… Martin outed me in the most outrageous way, there have been a few instances of bullying at school, I guessed wrong with Blue and now he is barely replying to my emails, Abby keeps pushing for me to go out with Cal, which now would only be awkward and sign the end of any possibility for me and Blue, Blue who doesn’t want me anyway…

So I sent that stupid email, half lashing out, half giving him an ultimatum. As if this was going to get shy, afraid, cautious, private Blue to talk to me again.

The world is full of idiots. But I’m the biggest one, right?

 

 

**Bram**

 

When I got the notification, my stomach did this weird thing it does lately when it comes to Simon. Half of it got butterflies and the other half turns into lead. The magic of falling for someone and the pain of knowing he wants someone else at the same time.

I open the email anyway, because I keep taking from Jacques even if I don’t know how to give anymore.

This email is however nothing I would have expected.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 13 at 3.47 PM

SUBJECT: Who are you?

 

Blue,

 

Sunday is usually my favorite day, but today, I kept finding myself pacing in my room. I am going crazy, and it’s because of you. My life is crap right now, and I try to pretend that it’s fine, but it’s not. I could handle everything, if only I didn’t lose you in the process. Yesterday, I told you that I understood if you don’t find me attractive, but let’s face it, I don’t and it freaking hurts. Especially because I have to guess all the time.

How is that fair that you know who I am but you still can’t tell me who you are? Why? Do you think I would tell people? Do something you don’t want to do? Even if you want nothing to do with me, I should at least know who I shared all those private parts of my life with, shouldn’t I?

Or are you upset that I guessed wrong? Because surely, you can’t be that mad at me for that? You gave me nothing and, yeah, I got dumb enough to guess someone you’re clearly not, but surely I thought we could go through the awkwardness. I guess We’re not who I thought we were…

This is it, isn’t it? Either you let me in or you don’t. But you can’t remain a ghost when everything else in my life became so real.

 

Simon.

 

 

I was hurt, and I know I shut him out. I didn’t realize how hurt and angry he was about that. I do now. Even though it upsets me to be a part of the hell he is going through, I can’t help but be happy about the email. Because even though he is clearly angry, because even though he didn’t sign ‘love’, he cares. It is so clear that he cares.

He wouldn’t care that much if he was about to date Cal Price, would he?

My eyes dart to the neatly folded shirt on my desk. I planned on putting it in Simon’s locker tomorrow. Maybe that would be enough to let him know that I still care too?

Or maybe he needs more than that. Should I just give it to him in person? Finally be brave? The idea itself raises my heart rate. I don’t think I could handle looking at Simon’s face when I tell him. What if the only thing I see on it is disappointment?

Part of me believes that he would be happy about Blue either way. The other part, though, can’t stop thinking that I am nothing like Cal Price. If that’s Simon’s type, that’s clearly not me. No bangs, no dreamy blue eyes, no fair skin, no artistic side…

Put the shirt on Simon’s locker. Give it to him directly. It feels like an impossible choice.

 

Unless there is a third option.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I hear the sound of a Gmail notification. I know that sound off by heart, now. But I am not as excited as I used to be. Blue will only half reply, like he has done lately, and… I don’t know. I’m especially nervous because after the last email I sent, he might just tell me that he’s done, or that he needs time. I am not ready for that.

But he replied. It’s more than I feared. Just for that, I should read it.

It is _not_ what I expected.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 13 at 4.29 PM

SUBJECT: It’s me

 

Simon,

 

You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I have not been fair on you. And I have not been here for you when you are going through what might feel like hell.

All I can say is that I was afraid. In all honesty, I still am. I know who you thought I was. I am nothing like him, and I find it really hard to believe that you might think that I am good enough to compete with him.

Because, let’s finally put it out there, this isn’t just a friendship anymore, is it? We are both hoping for more, aren’t we?

Here is where you are wrong. I do find you attractive. I had a crush on you pretty much since the day I met you, with your perpetual bed hair and your lingering moon-grey eyes. If you think I’m not attracted to you, Simon, you’re crazy.

I know that I haven’t given you that many clues, but there is actually quite a lot in my email address alone. You could also have guessed who I was based on what I shared about my family if we ever talked. This one is on me, though. I told you. Cute boys get me tongue-tied.

Especially one.

You have no idea how happy I was when I finally got the confirmation that you were Jacques. I know it won’t be the case for you, that you will mainly feel surprise, but I hope that some part of you will still be happy.

If I could only pray for one thing, it would be that one.

See you at lunch tomorrow.

 

B.

 

 

Never has my heart beaten that hard before. It’s uncomfortable. Almost painful. Blue replied. Blue couldn’t _tell_ me who he is, but he still _told_ me.

B. Lunch. That’s Bram, right? At this point, it _cannot_ be just Simon logic.

Bram Greenfeld.

_Bram freaking Greenfeld._

Cute (hot), smart (grammatical), modest (blushing), sporty (of the nicest calves), kind (supportive) and funny (at least in his head and emails) Bram Greenfeld is Blue. No, Wait. Scrap that. Cute Bram _had a crush on me since we met_? I don’t even remember when we met.

That sounds awful. That’s awful. Blue… Bram… He _hopes that some part of me would be happy_? Has he ever met a mirror? How is _he_ the insecure one?

I am still mad at Blue, just… not as much as I have been these past few days. Somehow, just by knowing who he is, I understand him much better. I understand Blue’s shyness because I have seen it in Bram. I understand him mentioning being tongue-tied and not able to talk to boys, even me, because I have seen Bram talk, laugh, even argue with boys on the soccer pitch, but he has barely ever spoken to me.

Am I really cute? Is that what he thinks of me? I mean… cute enough to reduce him to silence? If someone referred to me as ‘cute’, I always thought that it was the puppy kind, not the Cute Bram kind.

I don’t know what to reply to that. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Just like that, I am turning into Blue. Tongue-tied by a cute boy.

 

If I don’t even know how to email Blue when he is Bram, how will I be able to talk to Bram when he is Blue?

 

 

**Bram**

 

I usually like Mondays. I like school. Today, though, my stomach hurts, my body feels heavy and I feel like I won’t ever want anything again.

Simon didn’t reply.

Even he is not oblivious enough to not have put lunch and B together.

He really shouldn’t have worried. I am not the one that doesn’t want the other one. He is the one that isn’t attracted to me.

I try not to think about it. When I do, there is this burning sensation in my chest that I can ignore otherwise.

 

Today, school feels like any other day. Simon is on my mind all day and I notice him whenever he enters a room or moves. Just like any other day. Today, there is simply sadness, and maybe a bit of shame, attached to it.

 

“Louis, you’re not with me.”

I report my attention to Garrett. I never should have told him my middle name. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“The joke is on you, because I don’t cringe at my middle name. But seriously, are you just tired? No offense, but you seem… off.”

None taken, I feel off too. Side effects of being rejected by the guy I was falling for. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll probably skip practice tonight, though.”

“Abraham, how naughty of you.”

I barely even hear that sentence. Simon Spier appeared by our lockers. There is a look in his eyes that I read as determination. Somehow, it gives me hope, even if it’s just to feel stabbed in the heart all over again in five minutes.

“Hi, Bram… Can I talk to you about the English homework?” Simon asks.

“What English homework?” Garrett asks, slightly panicked. I shoot him a look. “Oh. The one about subtle social clues. Got it. Well… I’m gonna go work on my homework on how to create an awkward environment. I’m predicted an A. See you guys at lunch.”

And he leaves. Somehow, it’s for moments like this that I am grateful for Garrett. Simon is smiling, I think I am too, and a bit of the tension is gone.

“I got your email,” Simon says softly. “I thought we should talk.” I nod, and we don’t go to the cafeteria. Mr. Wise’s classroom is empty and we sit on the couch, facing each other.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your email,” he says and the way he says it lifts all the insecurities that had piled up on my chest. “It’s just… I didn’t know how. I thought it would be easier if we could just see each other…”

“Is it?”

“Not really. It’s still a lot to take in. But it’s you. I can’t believe you told me. Especially after the email I sent you. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“It’s fine, you get it,” Simon repeats and he seems almost unhappy about it.

“What?”

“Bram… it’s me. I get that Bram and Simon never really talked, but you know you can talk to Jacques, right? I need… I need to get us back.”

“It’s easier behind a screen.”

“True,” he answers with an easy smile. “But it’s going to be so much better in real life.” Every part of my body wants to believe that. I think I do. “Okay. Let’s try that again. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

I take a deep breath and I look at those crazy eyes of his. And he is right. When I look at him, I can see Jacques. And I can talk to Jacques. Jacques knows me and I know him.

“It’s really fine. I really do get it. I think… I was afraid about taking things offline, and I was insecure after you guessed Cal, and I took it out on you. I was just more passive-aggressive about it. Which is really unlike me, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” I know he’s just making fun of me, but it’s honestly all I wanted to hear. “We should go get lunch.”

“Or we could stay and talk,” I suggest. I’m not that hungry and I, for once, I want to have a conversation with a cute boy. A very specific one.

 

 

**Simon**

 

I can’t believe my life. I have a boyfriend. A real one. Who wants me, of all the other boys. Who had a crush on me. That last idea alone is too much for my brain to process.

Yesterday, we talked a lot on the English couch that I won’t ever look at the same way, and we decided to go all in. As in boyfriends. As in Bram coming out to our friends, and by extension to the school.

We haven’t kissed yet, but I already feel closer to Bram than any girl I kissed before.

 

When I reach my locker, I find something great. I find a wonderful brown-eyed, soft smile, soccer star boyfriend.

“Good morning,” I say and I feel so lucky that he is already into me, because I won’t seduce him with my eloquence.

“Hi. I’ve got something for you.”

I am about to make a joke, but he hands me a bag. He actually has something for me. “What is it?”

He shrugs. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

Inside the bag is an Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 shirt. “Bram… thank you. What’s the occasion?”

“It was supposed to be a late Christmas gift from Blue. Then it turned into an apology gift to have made you think that I wasn’t into you. Then I emailed you and you didn’t reply and I gave up on the idea of giving it to you. I guess now it’s a ‘thank you for being my boyfriend’ gift.”

“That doesn’t make me feel like an escort.” He chuckles and I believe that it’s the first time I made Bram laugh. “Do you still want to do this at lunch? Tell our friends, I mean.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s a big step.”

“I know. I told you. I’m ready. I’m not doing this for you.”

 

Before classes, I get changed in the bathroom and I put the shirt on. When I walk into English, I see Bram’s eyes widen in surprise, then sparkle in contentment. It was so worth squirming in the tiny cubicle.

 

“Is that a new shirt?” Leah asks me before I even sit down for lunch.

“It is,” I confirm. Does she know my entire wardrobe? “It’s a gift from Bram.” I don’t know if Bram wanted to be the one to say something, but it felt natural to answer a question rather than awkwardly try to start a conversation on the topic.

“Why would Bram… oh.”

The table goes really quiet and their eyes keep moving from Bram to me and then back. Bram blushed a little, but he looks determined and he is smiling.

“Seriously?” Nick asks and I don’t like that the first reaction to… me outing Bram, I guess… would be incredulity. But then Nick keeps talking and my best friend in the entire world is not confused in Bram’s sexual orientation. He is confused about his choice. “Of all the males in the world, you picked Simon? Have you seen him kick a soccer ball?” Wow. I mean… he could have left me a chance, but no. Straight to where it hurts. Straight to the shame. It was once, and both the kids are fine.

Bram laughs and answers: “Something tells me I would like that.”

“Not if there are children around,” Leah answers. Et tu, Brute? They are supposed to be my friends.

“The two of you look ADORABLE,” Abby decides although, really, we haven’t done anything different from previous lunches.

But this is what we want and need. Our friends supporting and teasing us like they would any relationship.

 

Tonight, I don’t have rehearsal and Bram doesn’t have practice. Maybe I could invite him over to do some homework while Nora is God knows where and my parents are still at work. Maybe we’ll do some homework. We’ll probably kiss instead.

 

 


	34. What if Simon wasn't gay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram is in love with Simon Spier.  
> Simon Spier has a girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of today's update. The stories are obviously not linked.

When I realized I was gay, I gave myself three rules:

  1. Don’t fall in love before coming out.
  2. Don’t fall in love in your group of friends
  3. Don’t fall in love with a straight boy.



 

I broke all of his rules. In one go. I am not out. To anyone. Yet I let myself fall in love with a boy from my lunch table. Simon Spier is cute, funny, outgoing, kind and smart. Simon is dating Anna.

This crush – okay, it’s more than a crush – is manageable at school. Right now, however, at Anna’s birthday party, it’s getting slightly out of hand.

Simon’s hair is messier than ever, he laughs more than usual, and after a couple of beers, his grey eyes are more luminous than usual. He is so beautiful that it almost hurts.

What truly hearts, however, is Simon’s hand in Anna’s. Simon’s arm around her waist. Anna’s lips on him. The two of them usually don’t indulge in PDA’s in school and, so far, I had been able to put the reality of them at the back of my mind. Which was a stupid thing to do, because now it’s hitting me right in the face and I hate it.

Actually, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I got dragged by Garrett and I did not think things through, as in Anna would probably like to be celebrating the evening with her boyfriend.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” Garrett comments at some point.

“What? No, I am. I’m just tired.” It’s only half a lie. I really am a bit tired, and I am having fun. Whenever I can forget about Simon and Anna.

“Are you sure? We can leave if you want!”

“Garrett, it’s barely been an hour, I’m fine. And I’ve noticed that you are getting quite close with that girl from the hockey team.”

“Tina. She’s cute, right?”

“Very. Don’t worry about me and go back to her before she comes back to her senses and realizes that she’s too good for you.”

“Very good plan, Greenfeld. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“One hundred percent. Go.”

 

My plan was dead easy: spend time with the guys of the team, maybe Garrett too if he was rejected by the hockey player, and go home. As early as possible, but not early enough to be _that guy_.

I still should have left earlier, though, because I got dragged in the most ridiculous thing ever. At some point, the entire lunch table ends up together on Anna’s couch or next to it – I’m on the floor – and because we already have a good dynamic, we end up having a group conversation about a lot of things, letting the party play out in the background. The hockey player is not here, and I don’t ask Garrett why. Then, Nick and Leah start debating – arguing – about whether a boy and a girl can be friends or not, because of the underlying sexual tension. I could say that I see Garrett half-naked on a weekly basis for soccer, that we get along better than most couples, and that I still don’t want anything more than his friendship, but that would be the most awkward coming out ever.

In a regular setting, this would end up with people finding common ground or agreeing to disagree. With partially drunken teenagers, though, this is sorted with Morgan putting all our names in a randomizer app to select two names. The lucky winners will have to go spend ‘seven minutes in heaven’. Yes. The game I managed to avoid so far and thought wouldn’t make an appearance so late in my life.

“Okay,” Morgan announces. “The first one is… Simon.” That’s a relief. The boy is chosen, and it’s not me. Maybe I will be able to avoid this hellish game after all. But God apparently hates me, because then she adds: “And… Bram? Sorry, I must have put the options in wrong. Clearly we can’t have two boys playing.” Clearly…

“Homophobic much?” Leah asks.

“What? No. But if they’re straight, there won’t be any sexual tension,” Anna replies. She’s not wrong. Then again, she’s not entirely right either.

“Or Anna, you should be happy about dodging a bullet and let your boyfriend do seven minutes in heaven with _not a girl_ ,” Morgan suggests.

Everybody finds that idea very funny. Everybody but Simon and me. Yet, somehow, this is happening.

 

This is a terrible idea. On so many different levels. I should not go for it. I should put a stop to it. But I can’t, because I’m weak like that. Not only do I not want to be the guy who shies away from being alone with a boy – how mortifying would it be to be portrayed as homophobic – but it is also Simon and my stupid brain would follow him everywhere. Even to awkwardness. Even to a heartbreak.

Anna’s closet is tiny and we are pretty much chest against chest. Simon is a bit smaller than me and my nose is in his hair. When he looks up, though, the only thing I can think of is how easy it would be to kiss him right now.

Then, I don’t even understand how things evolved the way they did. One second, we were commenting on how awkward this was, laughed it off saying that lunch buddies could endure seven minutes of awkwardness, then, and I truly don’t know why or how, our lips touch. Before I can even process that new reality in which I made lip contact with Simon Spier, Simon has cupped my face, pinned me against the wall and my hands are grabbing Simon’s back and sides almost desperately.

Sure, it’s my first kiss, but I’m also almost certain that this level of passion is not always there. Especially with a straight boy.

We break apart and we don’t touch anymore, but there is nowhere to step back, and we stay there, staring at each other, amazed and shocked. I have no idea what’s happening in his head, and I would give everything I own to be able to. What just happened was one of my wildest dreams. Was it just an experiment to him? It didn’t feel like it, but how should I know? Again: first kiss.

 

After the seven minutes in a-place-that’s-not-quite-heaven, we leave and act like nothing happened. Simon doesn’t look like anything life-changing happened to him. Then again, given our friend’s lack of reaction, neither do I.

 

 

I wake up the next day when I get an email notification from Jacques.

Jacques is this boy from school that I have never met, who replied to something I posted on the school’s secret Tumblr. We started exchanging anonymous emails and we became friends. Anonymity gives us the opportunity to share things we wouldn’t with people we know without the fear of being judged.

I still haven’t told him that I’m gay, but I think he knows.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 8.21 AM

SUBJECT: Revelation

 

Blue,

Have you ever had a life-altering revelation?

Something happened yesterday, and now I feel like my entire life is a lie. The worst part is: no one lied to me. I think I am the one who has been lying.

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 8.48 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Jacques,

I am pretty sure that I understand the feeling, but it’s hard to tell without context.

Did something happen?

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 8.59 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Blue,

Something happened. But that’s not important. What’s important is that I might have had a revelation about myself and I don’t know who I am anymore.

There is a question I want to ask you, but I don’t know if it’s allowed.

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.04 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Jacques,

There is no forbidden question. Not between us. That’s the beauty of this exchange, isn’t it?

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.11 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Blue,

You’re gay, aren’t you? I’m sorry if I’m wrong, it’s just… things you said that sort of point in that direction.

If you are… how did you know?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.27 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Jacques,

Okay. Wow.

Yes. I am gay.

As to how I found out… I guess I always sort of knew? I have never really looked at girls, even when other boys started to.

Then I started having thoughts about one of my stepmom’s cousins. I sometimes call him Mr. Sexual Awakening in my head. Which got really weird now that he’s wife had a baby. He lost some of the sex-appeal.

Then there was this boy at school – I obviously won’t tell you who – that I had a massive crush on. We kissed very recently and… Maybe that’s when I knew for sure. When it became tangible rather than thoughts.

Does that make sense? Does that help.

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.38 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Blue,

It does make sense.

It helps.

I will tell you now, because I can’t tell anyone else, even if I’m still not sure where the truth is.

I kissed a boy very recently. I never thought about even the possibility of being gay. I have a girlfriend, I thought we were happy, I thought I was in love, and then… he was there, right in front of me, and it’s like my body took over. And it felt so right. You have no idea how right it felt.

It could seem like an answer, but… it’s just a storm of questions. Am I gay? Am I into him, or am I into boys and he was just there? Or am I bi and is she just not the one? Am I straight and was I drunk? Do I need to talk to him about it? Do I need to talk to her about it? Do I need to break-up with her? Am I ready for that change in my life? Am I still the same person I was? How do I tell my family?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.44 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Jacques,

I think we need to stop this. From what you just shared… I think I know who you are. I don’t think you would feel comfortable having this conversation with me.

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.46 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Blue,

I think I know who you are too. I have known since January eighteenth, when you talked about your dad’s new family. I’m oblivious, but not that much. I thought you knew too.

But you’re right. I can’t have that conversation with you. Only with Blue. Can we pretend for a little while longer?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 17 at 9.44 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Revelation

 

Jacques,

Of course, we can. I, too, feel like Jacques and Blue are more important than whoever we are at school.

I don’t know if you’re gay. I don’t know if it’s boys in general or this one in particular. I don’t know if you need to talk to either of them about it. Probably not until you know what you want to say. Breaking up with her… if one kiss with someone you are not sure about feels more important than your relationship with her, doesn’t that answer your question already? But regardless of your sexuality, you are still the same person. Now and always. Telling your parents, though… I don’t know. I haven’t told mine. Maybe it’s something we could figure out together.

Blue.

 

 

Simon – because my online friend happens to be the crush that I kissed. I know. I can’t process it either – doesn’t email back after that. I understand he needs time. I need time. This is a lot.

Jacques… Simon… I never really saw Jacques under a romantic light before – I would say that it’s because I assumed he was straight, but that didn’t stop me from falling for Simon – and yet… knowing that the boy I am into and the confidant that knows me so well, and that I know in so intimate details, are the same person really confuses me. Is Simon the perfect boy for me? Is he within reach?

He doesn’t know if it’s boys, or if it’s me. It’s fair, I think. I also know what I would like the answer to be.

Part of me wonders why I didn’t leave that party when I wanted to instead of letting myself get dragged in this series of events that are shaking up our lives.

The other part of me is focused on the revelation that Simon Spier might be gay and that I might have been his sexual awakening.

This is too much before breakfast.

 

 

I am meeting Garrett in the parc to ‘kick a few balls’ and, as usual, he has a sixth sense when it comes to me.

“Greenfeld, it would be more challenging to play with Nick. Why are you so distracted?”

“It’s just… I kissed someone at Anna’s party and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Greenfeld, you’re such a player,” he replies with a cheeky smile. “Seven minutes in heaven with Spier _and_ a mysterious girl. Someone had an exciting evening!”

“Well…”

Garrett can apparently hear the unease in my voice, because he corrects himself. “Spier and a mystery boy?” I pause awkwardly. “Just Spier?” I’m pretty sure I blushed enough for Garrett to notice it. “Wow. I guess… I didn’t see you that way.”

His answer knots my stomach. I need Garrett to be fine with me being gay. I need him to be as supportive with this as he is with everything else. “I should have told you before. It’s just… I’m not really out yet.”

“What? I mean… Don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad that you felt like you could share that with me, but it’s not what I was talking about. I just didn’t picture you as someone who would after someone else’s boyfriend. I didn’t realize something actually happened in that closet.”

That completely reduces me to silence. In all of this, I have been extremely self-centered. When I stopped worrying about me, I considered Simon’s position, but not once have I thought about Anna. I wouldn’t say that she is my friend, but I have lunch with her nearly every day. Even without that… what I am doing to her is awful. Not kissing her boyfriend during seven minutes in heaven, but _making out_ with her boyfriend during seven minutes in heaven, loving it and wanting more.

Especially since Simon kissed me. Simon pushed me against the wall. Simon lingered the extra seconds. And I can’t shake the feeling that I could get him if I wanted. But I don’t want Simon. I mean I do… just not like that. I don’t want to just be Simon’s sexual awakening. I want to be so much more. I want to be for him what he is for me. I want the two of us to fall in love. I want…

I want things that probably won’t happen, and I want them regardless of what Anna might feel and want.

“Does that make me an awful person?” I ask Garrett.

“I don’t know. It depends on what comes next. The two of you kissed. It’s complicated for a lot of reasons, I get that. It doesn’t make you an awful person. And… wanting someone who is already taken doesn’t make you a bad person either. What is going to define the kind of person that you are is your timeline from now on. Simon needs to sort his shit with Anna before sorting his shit with you.”

“I know.”

“Do you need to talk about it?” he asks.

“Simon?”

“Sure. Or being gay. Or whatever else is in your mind right now.”

“I think I do.”

“Should we go to my place? My mom made brownies.”

“I mean… who could say no to your mom’s brownies?”

It feels freeing to know that I can talk to Garrett about this. It is liberating to have come out to someone who accepted me, it makes me feel closer to Garrett, and it’s not like I can talk to Jacques about it anymore. Not like I would have. Even if we agreed on pretending a while longer, I can’t talk to Simon about how I feel until he figures out how he feels.

Until he ‘sorts his shit with Anna’.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 28 at 6.42 PM

SUBJECT: Love sucks

 

Blue,

I broke up with my girlfriend today. Wasn’t it supposed to be very sad and devastating? Like detaching a piece of myself?

Because I feel nothing.

What is Wrong with me?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 28 at 7.01 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Love sucks

 

Jacques,

Nothing is wrong with you. You probably feel something. It’s just not what you expected.

I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask, but why did you break up with her? Let me ask bluntly: is she not the girl for you, or won’t any girl be the one for you?

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 28 at 7.13 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Love sucks

 

Blue,

It’s not what I expected. I expected… I don’t know. Sadness? Tears? Anger, even. But none of us felt that. I think we both knew that something was off. I told her that I think I’m gay, and she looked sad but resigned. She wasn’t even surprised. She told me that she didn’t know, but that so many things made sense now. I don’t want to give it much thought. I don’t want to know how many signs there were that even I couldn’t read.

I don’t think she’ll tell anyone.

She asked me if we could still be friends. The thing is… I don’t even know if I’m her friend. When I think about who I want to spend time with, she is oddly not on that list. Was I just with her because she was my girlfriend and I accepted that reality as a fact?

To answer your (not so) blunt question: I have thought about it a lot, these past ten days. I’m gay. It’s crazy even writing it. But I thought you should be the first one to know.

Now that I stated that fact, it seems like an evidence. How did I not even question being straight before?

But that leaves us in a really uncomfortable place. I am still figuring myself out. I don’t want to fall into the trap of falling for what seems to be the obvious relationship, because I apparently do that.

Don’t get me wrong, that kiss I shared with a boy in a closet (literally _and_ figuratively) affected me more than any I shared with my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. But maybe it would do that with any boy. I don’t think it would, but I need certainties now.

I’m not saying that I’m off kissing all the boys in the school. I’m just saying that I need time for things to settle down before I can properly think about it. I need to stop thinking about that kiss all the time before I can know what I truly want. I just need more time. Is that okay?

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Mar 28 at 7.40 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Love sucks

 

Jacques,

Of course, it’s okay. What I want – what I truly want – is for you to do what’s right for you. That’s my wish. The rest are just desires. The rest isn’t important.

Sort your new friendship with your former girlfriend. Sort your relationship with yourself.

Then you can go and kiss all the boys in the school.

Blue.

 

 

Simon and I don’t email after that. We could hardly pretend anymore in our last emails. I had to go correct myself because I put Anna’s name on it.

Lunches are a bit awkward. The entire group seems to be trying to politely ignore the fact that Simon and Anna broke up and that they didn’t give a reason. I wonder how many people around the table know why. They do. I do. Garrett does. I imagine that Anna told Morgan. Did Simon tell his friends?

I can’t talk to Simon, but that’s not a big difference from before. I am pining for him, but that’s still no different. The only difference now is that there is hope and that, as a result, rejection would hurt a million times more.

 

I still think about the kiss regularly. Not actively. It’s not as if I was remembering it on purpose. It just comes back in my mind randomly. It makes me shiver every single time.

I even dreamt about it once or twice. I don’t want to talk about that.

 

 

“Mom? Can I talk to you?”

“I’m quite busy with these files,” she answers me without looking up from her desk. “So if it’s not life or death, could it wait?”

“It’s not life or death, and I guess it can wait… but I’d like to talk about it now.”

She finally looks up and she seems concerned. I am never pushy. “Bram are you alright? Did something happen?”

“No. Nothing happened, but… there is something I have to tell you.” I am awkwardly standing between her office and the corridor. I might be more comfortable if we were sitting in the living room, but it felt like an urge. It almost feels like it’s now or never. I know that if I don’t say the words now, I will chicken out, and I don’t know how long it would be until I build up the courage to do this again. “Mom… there is something I haven’t told you and that I need you to know.” I don’t remember ever being so nervous.

“Bram… whatever this is, it can’t be as bad as you look right now. Just talk to me.”

“First, I… I need you to know that it’s still me. I’m the same person I always was, and…” My hands and my voice start shaking and I need to take a deep breath.

“Bram… you’re scaring me. Do you want to sit down?”

“No. No, I’m fine. Mom, I’m in love with a boy.”

I can see relief sinking into her. On her face, on her posture, in the breath she lets out… I feel my body mirror hers. “Is that what you wanted to tell me? That you’re gay?”

“Yes?” I say, almost like a question.

“But nothing bad happened to you?”

“No.”

“Okay. Listen, Bram, I need a minute to put all of that away. Go make us some coffee, and I’ll be with you in a moment so we can talk about this. Without you standing there looking stiff and in agony. Would you like that?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like that.”

 

Coming out to my mother took me every bit of courage I have, but it was entirely worth it. She listened to me, she supported me, she told me that she loves me. She even said that she would have my dad over so we could tell him together if I was too nervous to do so myself.

But then she asked me about the boy I am in love with. I told her about Simon. Not everything, of course, just the things I like about him. Then I had to clarify that no, he isn’t my boyfriend.

Her word of advice on this one was that, gay or straight, everyone gets their heart broken at some point.

 

 

Today, I am the last one out of the showers because I used the gym after practice. I’m usually not the only one, but everyone else had plans. I didn’t mind. I have a lot of things to sort out lately, and I could use the alone time to think.

Not that thinking helps anymore. At this point, it’s almost spiraling.

 

I put on my underwear and my pants before going back to the changing room for the rest of my clothes. There, sitting on a bench by my locker, is Simon Spier.

He looks nervous and cuter than ever.

“Hi,” he says quietly when he hears me.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you. For real, not in an email.”

“Okay.” I’m a bit uncomfortable, half-naked, so I get my bag from my locker, turning my back on Simon.

“Thank you for giving me space when I asked for it. I know the situation wasn’t entirely fair on you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I reply putting a T-shirt on. “We both needed time.” I grab my socks and shoes and sit on the bench, not too close, to put them on.

“I know I shouldn’t have kissed you before sorting things out. It just happened, you know?”

“I do know. I was there.”

He smiles shyly and it’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen Simon Spier be anything but confident. Then again, I know Jacques had a lot of confidence issues. It’s still a bit hard to see them as just one person.

“Anyway… As I told you, I didn’t want to come to you before knowing if the way I felt in the closet was for you as a boy, or for you as a person.”

“Do you know now?” I put some confidence in my voice, but I also do the most cowardly thing: I stand back up and walk to my locker again to grab my hoodie, just so I don’t have to look at his face.

“I do. But… to understand how I know, I have to tell you something first. Today, in drama club… I sort of came out to Abby.”

“Really? I’m so proud of you! I came out to my mom three days ago.”

“Wow, that’s great. My family is so not on my list yet…”

I don’t know why I diverted the conversation when I’m just dying for him to make his point. I take ages to put my hoodie on and sort things in the locker because I don’t think I could face him before knowing what he decided for us.

“Anyway,” he continues. “Cal Price overheard us.” I completely freeze. I know we joked about him kissing all the boys in school, but I never actually thought about an actual competition. “And… he… uhm… after practice, when it was just the two of us… he asked me out.” Despite the warmth of the changing room, I’m very cold, suddenly. “I didn’t answer anything because he kissed me.”

My stomach suddenly feels as if it’s been filled with rocks. Oh. OH. If our kiss was better, then it’s fine. If our kiss was the same, then Cal and I are just ‘boys in general’ and Simon still has to find ‘one in particular’. If their kiss was better, I was a step in Simon’s gay romance with someone else. That would just crush me, I think.

“How was it?” I ask with an uptight voice I don’t recognize.

I hear Simon move and when I turn around, he is right there, standing in front of me, close enough that I wouldn’t have to extend my arm to touch him. “Better than kissing Anna,” he answers taking a step closer. He is now right in my personal space. “Not as haunting as the closet kiss.”

“Well… maybe it was the novelty.” WHY DO I EVEN SPEAK? Why do I have this apparent need to sabotage myself? Don’t I want to be happy?

“Maybe,” Simon agrees and I know I’m the biggest idiot on the planet. “Should we put that theory to the test?”

There is something in his voice that completely petrifies me. I can only move when his lips touch mine. I didn’t think it would be possible, but this kiss is much better than the one we shared weeks ago.

“Tell me you feel it too,” he says when he let’s go of me and somehow, I don’t feel like ‘I do’ would be a good enough answer, so I pull him back in for another kiss. My hands get lost in his hair, his find their way under my hoodie and grab the fabric of my shirt tightly. He moves closer and I shift us to be the one pinning him down against the lockers this time, and… and I break apart.

“Simon?”

“What?” He seems nervous all over again.

“Should we take this somewhere that doesn’t smell like teenager’s sweat?”

He looks around, apparently surprised to realize where we are. Was it that good of a kiss for him? It definitely was for me.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. So… should we find some place to talk, or some place to do more of this?”

“That… is a very tough choice,” I answer.

“Right. Maybe… we could go to my house? My parents won’t be there for another hour… We could do both. Or… is it too soon?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a bit, but… it also sounds like heaven.”

He smiles, and that’s finally the smile I know and love. “A bit more than seven minutes this time!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title was a bit misleading, but 'what if Simon didn't know he was gay?' just didn't sound dramatic enough.


	35. What if Simon got stuck in a time loop?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is definitely the same as yesterday. And the day before.  
> If I have to relive the same day over and over again, could it at least please not be the day I lost Blue?

 

**Day 0: Sadness**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

There have been other idiots on Earth, but surely I’m the biggest one ever.

Waking up to an email from Blue was the best feeling in the world. If he emailed, surely it meant that I didn’t screw things up too badly. But this… Blue isn’t Cal Price. Mistakes happen. However, Blue didn’t make any. He knows who I am, and not because of Martin outing me. He knows because he’s perfect and he knows me. Much more than I know him, apparently.

I thought for a moment that we could work through that. Until I noticed the missing word at the end of the email. Either Blue is hurt, or he simply doesn’t want Jacques to be me. It kills me to not know which one it is.

 

When I arrive at school, I am feeling completely depressed. Being outed by Martin Addison would be manageable if it didn’t cost me Blue. This is exactly why I went along with the whole blackmail thing in the first place. To protect Blue from the humiliation – that sort of worked – and to save what we had. That didn’t work.

“Are you okay?” Abby asks as I sit next to her on the English couch.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, you look terrible. Did someone say something to you again?”

Nick, Garrett and even Bram are staring at me now. “No, nothing happened. I’m just tired.” Everyone seems to accept my explanation, but Bram’s eyes linger on my face longer than the others’.

I ignore him. I don’t need pity from someone I’ve never actually talked to before.

 

At lunch, I am looking around, scanning every boy’s face. Who is Blue? Who looks grammatical, funny, cute, half-Jewish, with a pregnant step-mother and who stopped signing their secret emails with ‘Love’?

At this point, I should just make a list of who Blue isn’t: Cal Price. It could be anyone else. Okay, I think it’s safe to say that it’s not Martin either. Or Nick. I look at Nick. Oh, please, don’t be Nick. I look at Garrett next. Actually, it can’t be Nick or Garrett because they both were at Garrett’s Halloween party when Blue had to stay home. Who else was at that party? More importantly: who wasn’t?

I look at Bram. He wasn’t there. Which is odd enough because Bram and Garrett are usually a package deal. For half a second, I contemplate the idea of Blue being Bram. Cute Bram Greenfeld. But then I remember the look between Bram and Garrett on my birthday. Bram is into Leah, and that would be very un-Blue.

Okay, so… who else wasn’t there at the party? Too many people. But it’s another clue, I guess. Not that I can remember the exhaustive list of guests. Would it be weird to ask Garrett?

“Hey, Garrett, do you remember your Halloween party?”

Garrett’s eyes widen in surprise. “Huh… Yeah. Why?”

Yes, Simon, why? What question are you going to ask now? “No reason.” And I fall silent again.

“Great chat,” Garrett comments, and he jumps. I’m pretty sure Bram just kicked him under the table.

 

Maybe Blue will find me after school, appear by my locker and tell me who he is. Set the balance straight.

 

He doesn’t.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:47 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I won’t lie to you: I was sort of hoping that you would come out to me today.

Don’t you think it’s weird that only one of us knows who the other one is? Does anonymity still serve a purpose for us anymore?

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:04 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Odd choice of words, yet it fits. I don’t think I’m ready to come out to you. You know how it’s hard to come out to your family because they see you one way and you’re afraid they might see you another way once you told them who you really are? That’s exactly how I feel right now. You clearly thought I was someone entirely different. You had this idea of me in your head and I’m not ready to challenge that.

–Blue

 

 

His reply depresses me even further. Because it makes sense. Presented like that, how could it not make sense? I can’t force him to reveal himself if he’s not ready. I can’t be his Martin.

I don’t know how to tell him that I really don’t mind who he is. That I want Blue, regardless of whose body he’s in, and that the image I had of him is not my norm, so there really is no ‘coming out’ to be done.

I sure as hell know that I shouldn’t say it like that. It makes no sense.

It’s fine. I’ll sleep on it and I’ll work on Blue tomorrow.

 

 

 

**Day 1: Déjà-vu**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

What the… Did Blue mistakenly send me the same email twice or did the app glitch?

I sit in my bed, staring at the screen for a long time. Something like twenty minutes. But no other email comes in. Blue didn’t press the wrong button before actually emailing me.

If the app is going to malfunction, why would it send back _this_ email? Why not a funny one? Or a cute one? Or the one about sex?

Because my life sucks, that’s why.

 

These twenty minutes make me so late that I don’t even have time to talk to anyone at home, almost have to run to my locker and almost bump into Leah when walking to physics.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Class,” I answer.

“You have English right now.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Uhm, excuse me, yes you do,” and I can’t argue back because she points at Nick at the end of the hallway walking towards the English room. What the…

I get to English – seconds before the bell – and sit next to Abby. “Are you okay?” she asks me.

“Yes, why?”

“Well, you look terrible. Did someone say something to you again?”

“No. Sounds familiar, though, right?”

“What does?”

“This conversation.” She looks at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about. I look at her and I notice she is wearing the same dress as yesterday. She never wears the same outfit twice in a row. “Same dress as yesterday?”

“What? No, I was wearing jeans yesterday. Si, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Sorry, yeah, I’m fine. Ignore me.” But I’m not fine. I have this terrible feeling of déjà-vu that I can’t quite shake off. Did she really not wear that yesterday?

Bram is staring at me and I ignore him. I don’t need pity from someone I’ve never actually talked to before.

 

When the lesson start, I can’t hide from the truth, though: I am not having déjà-vu. I lived this day before.

 

When I get to lunch, I am still obsessing about it. Trying to find a detail, _any detail_ , that would be different and not because of me. I need _someone_ to do _something_ different that wouldn’t be prompted by me.

Of course, that doesn’t happen.

Bram Greenfeld is staring at me. Do I look as crazy as I feel? Probably.

Okay, let’s do something sensible to get my mind out of things. Like draft in my head the email I need to send Blue. About ‘coming out’ to me. Except I can’t. Because he never sent me that email. Oh shit… What did I write in my email last night? Or tonight… not sure about the terminology here. How do I get Blue to put words I can comprehend and address on the whole “guessing wrong” situation? Actually… do I want him to? Is that where I want the conversation to go?

“Are you okay Spier?” Garrett asks. “You look like you’re making plans to have an entire family murdered and it’s a bit creepy.”

Garrett jumps again. Like yesterday. Today. Whatever. I think Bram kicked him under the table again.

 

This time, I don’t hope for Blue to come to me. I know he won’t.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:32 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I know I guessed wrong. I guess it helps that my username is a giveaway and that I talked about Mr. Wise… I also understand that you don’t want to tell me who you are. But maybe a clue?

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:04 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

But there are clues. You just decided to see what you wanted to see and ignore them. But if you want me to make it more obvious, fine. My pseudonym is also a giveaway.

–Blue

 

 

Wait, what?

Okay, first of all, this email is snappier than the last. I should have stuck to what I know instead of trying something new and messing things up even further. But he also gave me a clue and it’s more than I expected, in a way.

So… ‘Blue’ is a clue… I won’t let myself go down the road of eye colors again because he clearly was upset when he realized that blue eyes were my type. He might still have blue eyes, but I won’t make that my primary focus. Also, Blue is smarter than that.

So what could it be? Maybe it rhymes with his name. Stu? Andrew? What other name rhymes with blue? Or maybe it’s about one of the school’s teams. We don’t have blue in there, but there is green in our school colors. It can’t be that if it only half-fits, right? I can’t use Simon logic again.

Or maybe I should guess someone completely different and show him that I don’t have a type he needs to look like. Sure, I find Cal Price attractive. But I also find Bram Greenfeld attractive, and they do not look alike. Then again… maybe it’s not the best idea. I would have confidence issues too if someone told me I would have to look like Bram to be considered attractive.

I groan against my pillow. Maybe tomorrow will help me think.

Unless tomorrow is exactly like today.

But it can’t be, right?

Right?

 

 

 

**Day 2: Confusion**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

I take a second to process this. This is not déjà-vu at this point. I am reliving the same day. It’s my third January seventh in a row. How is that even possible? It’s not a rhetorical question. Really, scientifically, how?

‘Yesterday’, I barely spoke to my family over breakfast because I was that late. ‘Today’, I decide to go have a conversation with them. Do everything like I did the first time… On day zero, I guess. Just like ‘yesterday’, I try to do everything like the first time, hoping to see or hear anything that would be different.

But everything is the same. Nora’s grumpy comments, my dad’s almost funny jokes, my mom’s questions.

The only difference this morning clearly comes from me. “Are you okay, Si?” The question actually comes from my dad. “You seem a bit off. Should you stay home today?” That’s actually tempting. I don’t feel like listening to the same classes a third time. But there is Blue. Whose name is a clue, who probably doesn’t look like Cal Price and who wasn’t at Garrett’s party. It’s not much, but it’s more than I had before this all crazy thing started. I want to go to school and find him.

Plus, if I stay home, I’ll have nothing to do but think about it and I think I’ll go mad.

 

In English, I don’t sit on the couch. I don’t want to hear Abby asking me if I’m alright, or tell me once more that I look terrible. I don’t want to look at Bram’s pity look. Besides, maybe sitting here is going to have a butterfly effect that is going to make the entire day different.

I don’t actually believe that, but it’s worth a shot.

 

Of course, by lunch, nothing was different. “Hey, Simon, are you okay?” Abby asks me when I sit down. “You’ve looked off all morning.” I guess ‘off’ is better than ‘terrible’. But everyone is still staring at me after she said that. Maybe I should have gotten rid of this talk in English after all.

“I’m fine, I’m just having… a confusing day.” I was going to say ‘unusual’, but there is nothing unusual about today.

“Confusing how?” Leah asks.

“Like I have no idea what’s happening.”

“That’s every Monday morning for me,” Garrett jokes before getting the usual kick under the table. I have this weird feeling that Bram might be looking out for me. I never really talked to him, but he was surprisingly cool with me being outed and maybe he actually is having my back.

Are Bram and Garrett my friends? I mean… more than I realized?

 

After school, I feel a bit overwhelmed. By nothing in particular. Just, you know, by the whole reliving the same day thing. Is it really happening or am I just becoming crazy?

Quickly, the parking lot is getting empty, but I still don’t feel enough like myself to drive. At some point, there is absolutely no one else. Just me, this bench, a parking lot with ten cars or so, and the quiet. Somehow, it works. It empties all the other sounds in my mind. I haven’t done that the other January seventh. It gives me the faint hope that even if I’m stuck in this weird loop, I will still be experiencing new things.

I nearly have a heart attack when someone sits next to me. It’s Cute Bram Who Has My Back.

“Sorry,” he says with the softest smile. I thought you heard me.

“No… What are you still doing here?”

“Soccer practice.”

“Oh, right. Where are Nick and Garrett?”

“Gone already. I stopped by the library.”

“Is that still open?”

“It’s pretty much open whenever the school is, you know?” He could be teasing or patronizing, but the smile on his face is actually kind. It’s weird to realize that you like someone over a year after meeting them. After _sharing a lunch table_ with them for all that time.

“Yeah, I… sorry, today has just been…”

“Confusing?” he offers gently.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So… are you waiting for someone?”

“No, I just… don’t really feel like driving.”

“Do you need a ride?” I have no idea if my house is anywhere near his, and I think he doesn’t either. Yet he offers and I accept. It’s not like it matters anyway. Tomorrow will be today and my car will be home.

 

When I get home, I am thinking about how staying in school and being rescued by Bram Greenfeld was only possible because of soccer. I then realize that I regularly got emails from Blue after school. Never during play practice, though. Would it be possible at all that Blue would be in one of the extracurricular that take place that day?

I double-check nearly all of the emails. I was right. But it’s not drama. Drama is on Tuesday and Wednesdays. Blue’s is apparently Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I check on the school website. If I’m not being an idiot again, Blue is either: in the band, in chess club (I could see that), on the debate team (I could also picture that), on the basketball team or on the soccer one.

At this point, without Leah, Bram would be quite the candidate.

Where does this obsession with Cute Bram come from? It’s not really helping right now.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:27 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I guessed wrong and I’m sorry. But I’ll do much better next time, I swear.

I need an extra push, though. Any chance that you would be into music, chess, debate, basketball or soccer, by any chance?

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:35 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I must admit that this email took me by surprise even more than the one with your – unfortunately wrong – list.

Then it hit me. Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don’t know if it’s something you would like to read, but it made me unreasonably happy that you are still looking.

Yes, you could say that I am into some of those. One in particular, that does keep me after school twice a week.

–Blue

 

 

I don’t beg Blue to tell me which one. I don’t want to pressure him. He met me halfway, there. And it’s more than any of the other January 7ths. Maybe I don’t always screw things up after all.

Plus, he said it made him happy that I’m still looking. He is sending confusingly mixed messages, but I think it means that Blue is actually interested and me and just needed me to show him that I am interested back.

 

Another clue. It’s been one per January 7th so far. I might get something positive out of this crazy situation after all.

 

 

 

**Day 3: Fear**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

Any positive thought about this Groundhog Day situation is now lost on me. This isn’t funny anymore. It was never funny, but it is starting to make me panic. Literally. Pain in the chest and everything.

Will I wake up to that email from Blue forever? Is that the rest of my life? A grey January school day that starts with a half-worded rejection?

And… if I’m stuck here, then what does it mean? Am I going to live forever? No one wants to live forever if they are going to live the _same thing_ forever! Wait… Did I die? Am I in hell? I knew I should have gone to church more often. Or ever, really… Is it punishment for what I did to Abby?

Or… if it’s not that… am I aging? Will I wake up one day being fifty with all my friends still in high school? How would I explain it to people? To my parents? I guess I’ll become quite good at that after a while.

The pain in my stomach is turning into a burn.

 

“Oh, wow, Simon, are you alright?” My dad asks as soon as I enter the kitchen. “I don’t think you should be going to school today.”

I don’t think so either. I really don’t want to see the faces of other teenagers who are living perfectly normal lives, experiencing their first January seventh of the year, not having to face the fact that their lives are not going to move on ever again anymore. I don’t want to hear Abby greet me by telling me how awful I look today, especially when today is every day, I don’t want Bram Greenfeld’s pity look, I don’t want him to then sort of make it up by not letting Garrett tease me although I really don’t mind it, I don’t want to hear the same thing about the Great Gatsby, the Civil War or differential equations…

Also… I think I’m going to be sick.

 

Throwing up is apparently the best way to get your parents to let you stay at home without questioning it. My mother looked mortified when she told me that she couldn’t stay with me since she had too many patients today. My dad offered to take the day off, but I pointed out that unless he plans on following me around with a bucket, there is no need for him to do that.

Besides, I’m sure I’ll be able to find another January seventh to spend time with my dad…

 

When you have a cold, the last thing you should do is check your symptoms on the internet or you’ll be convinced that you have cancer. But in my case, it’s a bit different, right? I can’t just go to my mom and ask her how to stop the day from looping? If there is an answer, it will surely be online. I can’t be the first person this ever happened to.

I search for four hours before admitting that it is useless. I have found countless articles and videos explaining the difference between time travel in Groundhog Day, Back to the Future and Harry Potter, but I haven’t found anything trustworthy in the slightest that could indicate that something like that ever happened to someone else. So, of course, that means that there is no way for me to find helpful tips on how to break the loop.

Science apparently even says that time travel – if ever possible – would only be doable toward the future, not the past. Well, any scientist is more than welcome to come and talk to me…

From what most of the stories say, I have a specific task to do before being able to go back to a normal life. Apparently, being stuck in time is like being a ghost. Then again, both are a case of moving on to an after-life, I suppose.

 

I have been obsessing about this so much that I haven’t been thinking about Blue all day. I wonder if the opposite would be true. Would Blue keep my mind off this?

It’s worth the try. Anything to stop thinking that the only way out of this situation will be death.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:58 PM

SUBJECT: I need you

 

I’m very sorry for the change of subject. I know that me guessing wrong is weighing on you and that we will have to work on that at some point. Or maybe we won’t because me being me, or me being an idiot (same thing, some might argue) is a deal-breaker to you.

But right now, I need you to distract me. Anything to make me stop freaking out about everything.

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:07 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I need you

 

Is everything alright? I noticed that you weren’t in school today.

I am sorry that I haven’t been that good at distracting you lately. You’re right, I have been a bit overwhelmed by facing who you were hoping me to be. I am very grateful that you were able to see that and give it credit, even if it is my version of being an idiot. Which is why I could never hold it against you to be one sometimes.

I also need you to know that you being you has never been a deal-breaker. Quite the opposite.

Love,

–Blue

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:22 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I need you

 

You noticed I wasn’t in school? Are we sharing any class by any chance?

And my guess wasn’t necessarily the reflection of my type. I am sure that you being you won’t be a deal-breaker for me either.

Also… I can’t help but notice a certain word reappearing. Typo? Force of habit? Forgiveness?

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:25 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I need you

 

I really want to believe that you would be fine with who I am. I’m just not there yet.

Your last sentence sort of broke my heart. I know it was really passive-aggressive of me to stop signing my emails with love. Part of me hoped that you would call me out on it, I think. Knowing that you notice doesn’t give me any sense of joy, though, and I even feel a bit ashamed. See? I’m the biggest idiot.

So if I am the one who should be asking for forgiveness, I am going to answer your question as truthfully as I can. Yes, we share classes. Of course, we do. It would be surprising if we didn’t. More specifically, I was there when Mr. Wise told you that you had a problem with sentence fragments.

That thing you needed distracting from… do you need to talk about it?

Love,

–Blue

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:31 PM

SUBJECT: Re: I need you

 

English, then… I don’t think I’ll be able to focus the same way in English, now. I’ll just be scanning the room constantly, hoping for a sign from you. So… yeah, you’ve ruined my education.

I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. But thank you for those emails. They were all the distraction I needed.

Love,

Simon

 

 

And what a distraction! Blue wants me. Blue is in my English class. Blue is somehow blind enough to his wonderfulness to be self-conscious, and he shared that with me.

Maybe this is what I needed to accomplish: get Blue to come back to me. For the first time, I feel like I properly moved on instead of stagnating in that grey area with Blue. Surely, tomorrow will be different. It has to. Blue and I connected tonight. Maybe more than ever. The universe wouldn’t take that away from me, would it?

 

 

 

**Day 4: Anger**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

You have to be shitting me, right?

I get that people sometimes say ‘I wish this moment could last forever’, but they don’t think that for _every single moment_. People want to relive the best day in their lives, not the one they have partially been rejected by their online boyfriend.

Sure, I managed to somewhat get back into Blue’s good graces ‘yesterday’, but I don’t want that to be our dynamic forever. I want to know what comes next. I want to live a time of happiness and understanding with Blue, not to have to fight for him _every single day_.

And, _of fucking course_ , the one thing I can’t take back is the email that started this entire mess.

 

My frustration is apparently spread on my face. At breakfast, my dad jokes about me finally being the living image of teenage angst, and I don’t even have the words to tell him how saying that is not helpful. In any kind of context.

 

“Si, are you okay?” Abby asks me when I sit between her and Bram on the couch. “You look terrible!”

“Thanks, Abby. You too.”

“Hey, don’t snap at me, I just want to help.”

I ignore her. Even her voice is annoying today. This today. I know what I mean.

As usual, Bram is staring at me. I stare back and ask: “What?” My tone was probably more aggressive than necessary and he blushes before looking away.

“Someone ate joy for breakfast this morning,” Garrett comments. Bram doesn’t kick him. I get it. Not only is it not the usual time of day, but also, why would he want to be on my side right now?

I am becoming a dick and realizing that only worsens my mood.

This January seventh is not going to be a good day.

 

I can’t help but look at all the boys in the room. From the couch, I can see anyone who is not sitting on the couch.

I rule out everyone I remember seeing at Garrett’s party. Then everyone I know for sure is not in any of the after-school clubs running on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That leaves six.

Not that it matters anyway. I’m a bit fed with even Blue right now. I could have been stuck in an amazing day if he weren’t that stubborn. Today could have been the day he revealed himself to me, saying ‘Surprise, I’m not Cal Price’ and we would have had an outstanding first kiss and I would be reliving _that_ forever. I could settle reliving that forever.

But no, I am doomed torturing myself until the end of time, or until I die, because he’s a fucking coward.

I look at Max Adams. He’s one of the six. As far as I know, he could be Blue. Well, right now, I don’t care. I’m not interested. He would just let me down anyway. Besides, what’s the best that could happen from all of this? Even if I end up leaving this loop, then what? Blue and I live happily ever after? If that’s the best scenario, I don’t even want it. There is no way I’ll be called Simon Adams. And what sort of name is Max Spier?

Okay, I know I’m being ridiculous. But at this point, I really hope that he isn’t Blue.

I refuse to look at the other five because I don’t want to ruin all the potential Blues in my head.

 

At lunch, I don’t listen to anyone. I keep ruminating and thinking about how my life is unfair, Blue is a disappointment and Max Adams is an even bigger disappointment.

“Still a ray of sunshine, I can see,” Garrett tells me at some point, probably trying to lighten the mood. Like every lunchtime, he gets kicked under the table. I know I should be happy that Bram is still in a positive mindset toward me after I snapped at him this morning. Yet even that annoys me.

“What are you doing?” I ask him. Just like this morning, he blushes instantly. I don’t think Bram enjoys being noticed or singled out. So… I’m officially a dick. Especially since part of me is enjoying seeing someone having an equally shitty day. Even if it’s Cute Bram. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“Sorry?”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. If I can handle bullies calling me a fag, I can handle Garrett and his lame jokes.”

“Excuse-me, my jokes are never lame.” Once more, Garrett is trying to calm things down. I could easily make things worse, but I don’t want to be that guy. What’s happening to me is not on Garrett or on Bram. I blame Blue and the universe.

I mumble half an apology and I walk away. Even Leah looks at me like she doesn’t understand me. The Queen of Sulk is judging me for being moody. Then again, I’m probably the first person ever to be mean to Bram.

 

You would think that I would have stopped being mad at the world soon enough, but my mood is even worse after school.

I decide to take it out on Blue. It doesn’t matter anyway. In six hours, he won’t even be able to remember it anyway.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:14 PM

SUBJECT: Everything is shit!

 

You know what? Everything is shit. School is shit. Being blackmailed was shit. Being outed is shit. My dad’s homophobic jokes are shit. You being so uptight about me fancying another boy is shit. You refusing to tell me who you are when you already know who I am is shit.

You could have made it all better. You decided not to.

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:35 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Everything is shit!

 

Sorry that your life is shit. You’re probably the only teenager to feel that way. The rest of us, including me, are living the dream.

Sorry for being uptight. I guess it would be easier if I were just insensitive like you.

Love,

–Blue

 

 

It feels like being slapped, but it’s probably what I needed. I have been awful to everyone today and Blue is the first one to properly put me back in my place.

It wasn’t fair for me to get my frustration out on him, especially in that way. I think I got to a point where I understood his feelings pretty well, so I shouldn’t have denied them like that. He is entitled to feel the way he feels. Plus, it’s my fifth day going through this and, as frustrating as it is, it’s still Blue’s first.

 

This time, I go to bed without getting a new clue regarding Blue’s identity.

 

As much as I’d love to see January eighth one day, please don’t let be this be the January seventh that everyone will remember.

 

 

 

**Day 5: Acceptance**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

At least, Blue will not live to remember the day I was awful to him. Nor Bram.

Still… Am I going to have to wake up to the same depressing email forever? The same question pops up in my head every morning. Even my thoughts are stuck in a loop.

If that’s what my life is going to be from now on, I should find a way to make the most of it. I can’t keep being sad, angry or terrified. Maybe there is a way to find a purpose for this life too.

If I remember properly, in Groundhog Day, he ends up saving lives and helping people out. Maybe I could do that too.

Tonight, I’ll watch the news and see if there is anyone I could rescue ‘tomorrow’. Or maybe I should start small and do something nice for someone in school. I could get better karma by doing something nice for Bram. I don’t technically have to make it up to him since he doesn’t remember anything I did last January seventh, but it would probably make me a better human being.

 

“If you had just one day to live, what would you do?” I ask my family over breakfast.

“I would stay home and finish everything I started,” Nora replies. “My book, my Netflix binge, my art project, my history paper… okay, maybe not that one. But you know. Make sure that I don’t end up not knowing how something ends. I would hate to die not knowing who killed poor Mrs. Krinsky.” I have no idea who Mrs. Krinsky is, and Nora’s idea doesn’t really apply to me. I have all the time in the world to finish all the books I want. But I could actually use the time to read the book on next year’s curriculum.

“I would spend quality time with my family,” my mother says. I haven’t spent that much time with my family these last January 7ths. But, once more, I have time to do that. I think I phrased my question wrong.

“I would do something I have never done before,” my dad answers. Now, that is a very good idea. I should try to do something new every single January seventh I have left. If only just to break the monotony. This would be a good mindset. Change my resignation into acceptance.

 

“Good morning Simon.” At least Abby doesn’t think I look awful today. It might be my best January seventh so far. It’s all about the silver lining.

I turn to Bram but he isn’t looking at me today. He is apparently rereading his notes from yesterday. The real yesterday. January sixth.

“Bram?” He looks at me, visibly surprised. I don’t blame him. It’s probably the first time I speak directly to him. Or at least instigate a conversation specifically with him. “Do you know which books we’re supposed to read next in English?”

“Catch 22”

“Thanks.” He smiles softly at me and he goes back to his notes. I realize that I never really looked at Bram. He has a freckle on his cheek dramatically long eyelashes. He is adorable. For a second, I wish I was Leah and that someone like Bram would be into me.

Which reminds me of Blue. Six possibilities in this room. Five and a half. I still hope it’s not Max. I have nothing against him and if he really is Blue, I won’t be disappointed. It’s just that I made things weird in my head and I’d like to avoid any extra awkwardness.

Then it hits me. I overlooked another list of clues that Blue gave me. He shares a first name with a president. It can’t be Max. Then… who else can I get off that list? Actually, on my current list, it just eliminates two. It could still be Harry, William, James, and John. None of them would be a disappointment. I really don’t know what Blue is afraid of.

 

Garrett doesn’t make fun of me at lunch, but he teases Leah. Bram gives Garrett a look, but he doesn’t kick him. That’s weird. I get that I’m the guy who was just outed and that my friends are extra-protective at the moment, but you would think he would do the same for the girl he has a crush on.

That’s when I know what I could do for Bram that would be nice. It probably won’t happen ‘today’, but I have infinite tries. I should get Leah to see how great he is. I think it is a good first mission. Sorting Bram and Leah’s love story. Then I could logically move on to Blue and me.

 

Bram appears by my locker after school. “Hi, Simon. I… I have something for you. I thought you asked because you plan on getting ahead.”

So… that’s definitely new. Bram hands me a copy of Catch 22. It looks old and used. “Oh… thanks.”

“It was my dad’s when he was in school and in college. He is an English professor now, so he is obviously good with literature. It’s full of his notes. I am obviously going to need it back at some point, but… I find it useful. His notes tend to be better than most of the book studies you can buy. Definitely better than the ones in the library.”

“Thanks, that’s great.”

“It’s not. But as I said, hopefully, it will be useful.”

“No, truly, it’s great!” I repeat. “And I will take care of it, I promise.

Bram’s shy smile reappears on his face and for the briefest moment, I want to touch his freckle. “Okay, I have to go,” he says, interrupting my weird thought, nearly making me jump. “I have soccer practice.”

“I would say good luck, but I guess you sporty people actually enjoy practice.”

“We do,” he confirms. “Most of the time.”

“Enjoy then.”

“Thanks.”

 

“What’s that?” Leah asks me when I meet her at her locker, looking at the book.

“Bram sorting my life,” I answer.

“Can he please sort mine too?” she replies playfully.

“You can always ask him. He might enjoy that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, just… he’s nice. Maybe he would spare some time for you.”

“No, thanks. I know he’s super smart, but I still try to stay away from jocks.”

“Bram and Garrett are not jocks. They’ve been super cool with me being gay.”

“True. They’re actually nice to everybody and I find that very annoying.”

“How is being nice annoying?” I ask.

“It’s annoying when anyone is a better person than me because then I have to face the fact that I should probably make an effort to better myself. Sporty, smart and nice? What could be more annoying than that?”

Okay, so I guess I should try again tomorrow and get the conversation going another way. Personally, I don’t find sporty, smart and nice annoying. I find it amazing and attractive. That’s just how I need her to see it. It shouldn’t be that hard. Who would turn down Bram Greenfeld?

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:31 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I know I guessed wrong and that made me an idiot. I know you’re not ready to come to me. But maybe you’re ready to be found out?

Don’t worry, I won’t guess randomly until I get it right. Next time I make a guess, I promise you will be amazed because it will be you.

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:54 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

That was an unexpected email. Yes, I think I am ready to be found out.

–Blue

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:12 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Then how about you give me a clue? It doesn’t have to be something massive. Just something to get me thinking.

Initials? That would be too obvious, right?

Number of fingers? Although that would rule out absolutely no one.

Skin color? That would rule out a few people.

Favorite color? Then I can look like a complete idiot tomorrow when I ask everyone in school what they’re favorite color is.

You know, something like that.

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:27 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

You’re not really good at looking for clues, are you? I gave you a massive one today.

But I’ll play.

My initials are ALG. Trust me, that’s less obvious than you think.

I still have all of my fingers, although I’m pretty sure Damian Strodes only have nine. An accident with fireworks last fourth of July, I think.

Skin color is a tricky one. It could rule out a few people or a huge number of people. We both know that people don’t always tick the majority box.

My favorite color is grey.

–Blue

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:41 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

A massive clue? You mean in real life? Did we INTERACT today?

ALG? I literally listed all the boys from our year that I know and I don’t know any AG, so fat less any ALG. You can tell me. Are you in the witness protection program?

I think I heard that story about Damian actually. From Garrett Laughlin. I don’t know if you’ve ever spoken to him, but he is really good at conveying details. I don’t celebrate Independence Day the same way now. Or, at least, I ruled out any pyrotechnics.

That’s very true about the skin color. I never really pictured you in my head – apart from that time I guessed wrong – but I will make sure that if I do, I won’t go for something a painfully boring as white. Or black. Or anything. How do you feel about golden skin? Or silver? Or grey, since it’s your favorite color.

How can grey be your favorite color? It’s very boring. Plus, I was honestly expecting blue-green to be your answer.

Love,

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:59 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Yes, we did interact. It’s not a big school, you probably interact with most juniors on a daily basis.

I am indeed on the witness protection program. I was a hitman for the mafia, but I decided to turn on my boss when he threatened my wife and children. Or was that the plot of a movie?

I have the same newly found respectful terror of fireworks now. I was given details too.

I don’t think I would enjoy golden or silver skin. Anything shimmering and I would feel like a bad Twilight cosplay. Nobody needs that.

Grey is absolutely not boring. Have you ever looked at the moon?

Love.

–Blue

 

 

This conversation was surreal. BUT THE WORD IS BACK.

I don’t know how I feel about that conversation, though. We interacted today. He tried to play it cool, but if he gave me a clue, it was more than greetings in the hallway, right? Who did I have a meaningful exchange with today? Or maybe he just gave me a hint from afar? Was it in English? I can’t remember anything standing out, though.

And then there is the thing about the skin color. I don’t think Blue is white. When you’re white, you don’t question someone asking you about your skin color. You just take it for granted and ask insensitive questions like the idiot that I am. Thank God he wasn’t offended and even replied jokingly. But I’m still a moron.

On my list, Harry is part Mexican and James is black. It had to be one of the two, right? But none of them is an ALG.

Then again, I don’t know any ALG…

 

 

 

**Day 6: Investigation**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

The entire morning is a blur until English. Today is definitely the day I work out the mystery of Blue. At this point, if I need any more clue, I might as well just ask him his name.

I barely reply to Abby’s greeting. She probably said something again because everyone is staring at me again. “What?”

“I said you look stressed.”

“Oh. No, I’m fine.”

Bram’s eyes still linger and, for some reason, I still can’t get used to that. It’s probably my gay brain being over the moon whenever a cute boy looks at me.

Anyway… James or Harry. How can I know? Even more importantly, how could I know that I haven’t wrongly used Simon logic and already ruled out Blue somehow? If I guess wrong again, it wouldn’t matter that much since he couldn’t remember me screwing up a second time, but somehow, I don’t want to cheat. I want to do things right. He deserves that. We deserve that.

I try to think. What is that massive clue he gave me ‘yesterday’? I haven’t done anything different with either James or Harry, so if the clue came from any of them, it will surely come again today.

 

Okay. So. Blue shares a name with a president, was not at Garrett’s party, does extra-curricular, is in this English class, probably isn’t white and gave me a clue in person. But what clue? What else do I know about Blue? No one talked to me about their pregnant stepmother, or Casanova, or their tradition with their dad, or…

My head spins toward Bram so fast that I get dizzy. Bram. Whose dad is an English professor. Who was not at Garrett’s party. Who is on the soccer team. Who is obviously in my English class. Who isn’t white.

ALG. G for Greenfeld. I don’t know his middle name. and ‘A’. Could it be that Bram is short for a first name starting with an A that was the name of one of our presidents?

 

The period just before lunch, I have history. I check at the end of the textbook. US Presidents whose first names start with an A… So… there is Andrew, Abraham, Andrew again, and… and that’s it actually. Bram would be a ridiculous nickname for an Andrew. But that works perfectly for Abraham, right?

 

I have never been so nervous about lunch in the cafeteria before. But this time, I am almost sure that I am about to have lunch with Blue. How crazy is that? And how was it for him to have lunch together all this time? How long has he known it was me? How many times did I say something stupid? Oh God, id he even actually interested?

I mean… it’s Bram. As Leah said: smart, sporty and kind.

Leah… Is Bram really not into her?

How much of an idiot can I be?

“Is Abby short for something?” I ask her as the least possible smooth way to get the conversation to where I would like.

“No. Short for what?”

“I don’t know. Abigail?”

“No. Sorry to disappoint you, I’m just an Abby.”

“Nick, are you actually a Nicholas?” I ask my best friend, realizing that I never actually asked him that before.

“Yes, I am. It was on my birthday cake in sixth grade.”

“And you, Leah, are you actually a Lecholas?” Garrett asks. “Because I am totally a Garretthew.”

He jumps. Bram’s daily kick under the table. “I’m actually an Abraham,” Bram offers gently and my heart does this weird thing.

“Really? Any middle name?”

“Louis,” he answers, a bit confused. I get it. It’s a weird combination of questions. It doesn’t matter. It’s finally there. Abraham Louis Greenfeld. ALG.

OH MY GOD. Bluegreen. It makes sense now!

 

I might still be wrong, but… this time it isn’t just Simon logic, is it? This time, Blue would have to forgive me for getting it wrong because all the signs are there.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 5:47 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Are you Bram Greenfeld?

Simon

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 6:04 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Yes.

–Blue

 

 

And that alone just gave the strength to go through another hundred January seventh.

 

 

 

**Day 8: Courage**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 7 at 7:23 AM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

On the Tumblr – you mean creeksecrets? I honestly don’t think I’ve looked at it since August. What was on there? Anyway, you don’t have to feel like an idiot. It’s fine. But I really don’t think I’m wrong.

Jacques a dit. Right?

–Blue

 

 

Today is the best day of my entire life. Today is the day I get Blue.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

 

“You look very cheerful today, Honey,” my mother greets me.

“That’s because I’m in love.” Usually, I would never be this forward. But it will all be taken back in less than a day.

My dad almost drops his spoon. “In love? You have a boyfriend?”

“Not yet. But I’m getting the boy today.”

My mom seems about to reply something but my dad beats her to it: “That’s my boy! Great attitude! Go for it, Spier!” Somehow, I feel like for once, my dad might be the parent with the wisest words.

 

English is torture. None of the other days had I noticed how much of my body actually touches Bram’s when I sit next to him. Has it been this hard for him every time? I am so happy I had this class before, because it is so hard to focus on anything Mr. Wise says.

 

Science, algebra, and history are torture as well, because Bram isn’t there. But I needed those periods without him to gather every ounce of courage I have and figure out a way to tell him that I know.

It is so terrifying that I think a few times about postponing it. There will be other January sevenths.

I so perfectly understand Blue right now. It is so hard to walk up to the other person. Even when I _know_ that Blue – Bram – is fine with Jacques being me, even if I know that he tried to reach out to me before. Even if that reality doesn’t exist anymore.

 

After history, I nearly run to Bram’s locker, hoping that he would stop by before lunch.

And there he is, which is the best and worst news at the same time. I can’t postpone it now.

“Hi, Bram. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Oh, hi, Simon. Sure, what’s up?”

I never would have pictured Blue as a ‘what’s up’ person, but I’m not entirely Jacques either.

“I’m just… I’m sorry I guessed wrong.”

His eyes open wide, his mouth falls open, and he just stares at me, completely taken aback, his locker still open.

I am two seconds away from asking him to skip lunch to have a chat when Garrett appears. “Are the two of you having a staring contest? Because Spier, you blinked.” Something tells me that Garrett actually read the situation very well and thought that we were maybe being a bit too obvious. Bram isn’t out after all.

Fine. Lunch it is.

 

I find it extremely hard not to stare during lunch, so I try my best to have a conversation with Nick about the latest Assassin’s Creed. My eyes keep finding Bram’s though, and I’m pretty sure that I blush every time. He might be too, but it’s harder to see on him.

Garrett has a knowing look on his face, but it’s a kind one.

I guess I’ll get to know Garrett better now.

 

After lunch is more school without Bram and then it’s soccer practice. I consider waiting for him, but this would be weird. We’re not a couple, he’s not out, we’re not exactly friends… I shouldn’t force things.

Then again… although I have all the time in the world, _we_ don’t. Tomorrow, I will remember that he is Blue, but he won’t remember that I ever told him that. That’s the frustrating part. Having to start again every day.

At least, it will give me the opportunity to come up with a better thing. In a few January sevenths, I will be the best at getting Blue.

 

Bram apparently doesn’t think that we have enough time either, though, because he is not at practice. He is leaning on my car.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hello again. Do you want to get coffee somewhere?”

“Don’t you have soccer practice?”

“I lied and told the coach that I wasn’t feeling so well.”

“How naughty of you. Is your imaginary disease contagious?”

“I don’t know. It involves hot flush, tachycardia, dizziness…”

“It sounds like the flu.”

“Or a massive crush.”

I can’t help but smile like an idiot.

 

We don’t end up getting coffee. We end up in a parking lot eating the perfect mix of milk and Oreo, talking about everything, including us. US. As in him and me, together, being boyfriends.

And we could drop the BF bomb because when I leaned toward Bram, he kissed me back. He tasted like Oreos, only better.

We stay quite late in this corner of the parking lot, alternating between passionate conversation and passionate kissing.

Yes, I could _definitely_ do that every day. Forever.

Or maybe I’ll take him somewhere nicer next time. Or I won’t kiss him and wait to see if he would kiss me first. Or we’ll start earlier and skip lunch. I just need to get Bram before Garrett shows up. Possibilities are endless.

Saving lives will have to wait. I have to get the boy in a hundred different ways first…

 

 

 

**Day 9: Novelty**

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jan 8 at 7:02 AM

SUBJECT: Breakfast together?

 

I don’t know if you’ll see that email on time – yes, you were right, we should have exchanged numbers – but I was wondering if you would like to get breakfast with me before school?

–Blue

 

 

I wouldn’t have chosen any other way to start January eighth.

 

 

I guess I won’t get the boy in a hundred different ways, then. It’s fine. I only needed one.

 

 


	36. What if Bram was stuck in a time loop?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, if Bram was going to relive a day, it had to be the one where Cal Price asked Simon Spier out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's pretty much the same story again. Now you know what they feel like.
> 
> Someone pointed out that Bram wouldn't be stuck for very long in the time loop if he only had to figure out who Jacques is, so it got me thinking about what Bram would have to overcome.  
> So here we are. This story is not linked to the previous chapter, it just has the same starting idea. Yes, I know, it's repetitive, but then again... all these stories have the same synopsis.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway!

**January 9 th **

I really tried to not overreact. But the truth is, it crushed me. It’s not just the list, or Simon guessing wrong, it’s what my heart did. How high it flew when I thought Simon knew I was Blue and was so excited to tell me, and how it crashed on the floor by item three.

All this time, Simon has been picturing someone else while reading my emails. In his head, he had been getting closer to someone who isn’t me. Someone who, apparently, he is friends enough with so he would push him down a ‘dark hallway in a rolling chair’. I can’t help but try to figure out who impersonates Blue in Simon’s mind. Who is this boy he thought – wished? – was Blue. And what else happened in that dark hallway?

Also, more importantly, for the last three days, I have been completely unable to sign my emails the way I used to. Whenever I try typing the word ‘Love’, my fingers freeze above the keyboard and I just skip the word. I just feel too exposed now. It’s easy for Simon. He is still signing ‘Love’ to a fantasy. But I can’t tell Simon that I love him – _him_ , not _Jacques_ – when it’s so clear that he can love the fantasy but not the boy. Not _me_.

That stings so hard that it burns.

 

It also hurt that it’s getting so hard to ignore the fact that I’m an idiot, a coward, and that I brought this on myself.

 

I meet Garrett for breakfast, like every morning, and his jovial expression fades away when he sees me. It’s probably not a good sign.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Greenfeld, but you look like shit.”

“Is there a good way to take that?”

“Fine, let me rephrase. Bram, sunshine of my life, who always looks handsome and sexy as hell, you do look slightly under the weather today. Would you like to discuss the underlying reason with me?”

At least, that gets me smiling. I let myself fall more than sitting properly in the seat in front of him. I let out a sigh that sounds dramatic but needed to get out. Before I can say anything, the waitress drops a tray of cutlery. It takes Garrett less than a second to be on his feet and helping her pick it up. He’s not doing that to hit on her. It’s just who he is. Any other day, I would have followed his lead. Today, I can’t be bothered.

“I told Simon I know who he is,” I tell him when he sits back down in front of me.

“Okay… I would have thought it would be a happy moment.”

“He told me he knew who I was too.”

“Then it should be super happy news. So what? Are you just nervous about seeing him? Freaking out about kissing?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“There won’t be any kissing,” I reply. My mind can’t even go there. “He guessed wrong.”

Garrett’s smile fades, but he doesn’t look as devastated as would feel appropriate. I know it’s extremely unfair on him, but right now I feel like if he truly was my friend, he would be upset with me. I feel bad with him when Burke looks right through him. “Bram, you’re being unfair.”

“What?” Can he read through my mind? I know we’re close, but that’s a ridiculous step.

“Of course, he guessed wrong.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s because you’re a lucky bastard and both your crushes turned out to be just one person. You can’t blame Spier for not having a crush on you when you never spoke to him, for not guessing it was you when you were probably scarce with your clues, for not picking _you_ out of hundreds of boys, or for having a connection with someone else in real life.”

“I hate it when you’re being sensible,” I reply.

“Look, Bram… you rarely talk about your online thing with Spier, but from what I gathered, you two are quite tight online. But you had to know that at some point, you would have to give him something back in real life too, right? Of course, he was going to look for you in any guy who’s nice to him. Especially after you told him you know who he is.”

“Garrett,” I interrupt him, “I know you’re right, but… I need to be mad and bitter for a day or two. Then I’ll get my shit together. Alright?”

“Of course. In exchange, don’t tell me ‘I told you so’ when Burke rejects me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Great. Do you want me to list all the things that suck about Spier?” There it is. That’s the friend I need right now.

 

Being around Simon is at the same time identical and massively different. It is the same because he is the same. His attitude didn’t change in any way. Plus, it’s not like I was making progress in real life before that email anyway. But it’s also different. Exactly because his attitude remains the same. Jacques and Blue are in an awkward position, he knows it, and it doesn’t seem to affect him at all. For the first time, it feels like I don’t have a chance with him. Not as Bram, not even as Blue.

But today again, I try to swallow back my bitterness. Garrett is right. I’m not allowed to feel sorry for myself for losing something I didn’t truly fight for.

And I think I’m getting my head around it. Tonight, when I get home, I will send an email to Simon. A real one. Like before. Get things back to normal. I don’t think I’m ready to really sign it, but maybe I could put my phone number in? He has asked that more than once. Or maybe I’ll finally receive the Elliott Smith t-shirt I ordered and I’ll be able to give it to him.

 

All of my good resolutions shatter as soon as I get to English. I sit on the couch with Garrett and Nick today. I am reading my notes from the last lessons, Nick and Garrett are talking about practice, some other students are talking about Shakespeare and there is a global atmosphere of nerdy chaos. I love it.

Then Abby comes in and sits half on the arm of the couch, half on Nick. He moves to make her room, but he just ends up on her lap. She has a happy smile on her face and when Nick asks her why she’s so cheerful, she stabs me right in the heart. “You know how you were saying that you were worried that it might be hard for Simon to get a boyfriend in a school where no one is out?” she asks. Nick nods. “Well, you might not have to worry about that anymore.”

Because I’m stupid, my heart races with hope. What does she know? Did Simon tell her something about Blue? Am I somewhere in his head or his heart after all? But no. Her next words are like a bombshell: “Do you know who Cal Price is?”

“No idea,” Nick replies. He’s definitely straight. Cal is too cute to be unnoticed. I a Simonless world, I might have a crush on him.

“Calvin Price,” Garrett replies. He was in our chem class last year. He’s in the drama club.”

“Still doesn’t ring a bell,” Nick replies.

“Well,” Abby continues, clearly not noticing that I’d give anything for her to stop talking, “yesterday, during play practice, he very _casually_ mentioned that he is bisexual and then he pretty much asked Simon out.”

“What do you mean ‘pretty much’?” Nick asks.

“He told Simon that he thought it might be nice if the two of them hanged out soon.”

I see Garrett’s eyes dart toward me for a second and then he asks nonchalantly: “What did Spier say?”

“Nothing,” Abby replies with a pout. “He just stood there, flabbergasted, and mumbled something that wasn’t made of real words.” It sounds like it got Simon all flustered. Is Cal the boy I’m fighting against? It would make sense. He shares a first name with a former president, a comic book character, I’ve seen him draw a few times, he has crazy blue eyes, and I can picture a few occasions during which he could have pushed Simon on a chair down a dark hallway.

That’s when Simon enters the room as well. As he sits down, Nick asks: “Who, pray tell, is this Calvin fellow?”

Simon tries to dismiss it, but he definitely blushed. Just like that, all my hopes are crushed. Simon very much belongs to another boy.

 

When I get home, I try to forget the events from today. So I do my homework, I play scrabble with my mom, I watch trash TV… But as I am reading on my bed, I get an email from Simon.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 8:23 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I mean, I get it. Just because I was careless doesn’t mean it’s fair to push you into revealing yourself before you’re ready. And believe me, I’m the freaking expert on that. But now you know my superhero identity and I don’t know yours – and that’s weird, right?

I don’t know what else to say. Anonymity served a purpose for us, and I get that. But now I want to know you for real.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

I should be thrilled. Simon is still pushing. He wants to meet me. The only thing is… Simon is everything I want, everything I dreamed of, everything I wished for… And I am not that for him. I’m not even his type.

I can’t answer now. The only words that dance on my mind are spiteful ones. Because every time I want to take a step toward Simon, I remember Abby’s face when she mentioned Cal and Simon, and the way he blushed when Nick asked him about it.

Simon has helped me so much these past few months. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the reason I could come out to my family. I found peace through Jacques. What have I given him in return? He came out to a friend – I guess Leah or Abby – but not to his family. He got outed online. I didn’t go to see the post – I think he wouldn’t want that – but I gathered that saying it was in an unpleasant manner would be an understatement. I couldn’t go to him when he asked me. Even now that he is throwing one last life-preserver at our relationship, I am unable to seize it.

I have, however, apparently paved the way for him and Cal. Maybe that’s what I was supposed to do for him. Maybe, after a while, I’ll be happy for him. Maybe I’ll find some poetry in having been able to do that for him. Maybe…

Maybe nothing. I hate this whole situation, I hate Simon’s obliviousness, I hate Cal Price and his stupid bang, I hate having to have lunch with Simon, I hate being unable to stop loving him… right now, unfairly, without it making any sense, I even hate Garrett and his stupid perfect friendship.

I think I’m just mad at the world.

 

I go to sleep ridiculously early. I can’t wait to burry this stupid day. Let’s give tomorrow a chance to be less shitty than today. At least it will be Saturday and I won’t have to witness first-hand Cal and Simon becoming an item.

 

 

**January 9 th **

I wake up tired. Not that it’s a surprise, I don’t think I slept so well.

Then I realize that my alarm is buzzing. I frown, confused. My alarm shouldn’t even be on on a Saturday. I look at my phone and the date is ‘Friday 9th January’. Immediately, my brain splits. The rational part of my brain thinks that my phone malfunctioned and that I should just go back to sleep. But the constantly worried part of my brain thinks that I should get up and just check.

So I make my way to breakfast with Garrett, feeling like an idiot because I am about to enter a diner where Garrett isn’t and then I will have to go back home. Or, because I hate being somewhere and just leaving, I’m probably going to have breakfast alone like a sad idiot who gets up on a Saturday because his phone glitched.

I enter the diner and my entire body freezes. Garrett is there, just like yesterday – is even yesterday the right word? – reading a menu he knows off by heart. I only seem to remember how to move when the waitress drops her tray of cutlery. That one event repeating freaks me out more than anything else. This one fact, more than anything else, feels like proof. It’s not a phone glitch. It’s not Garrett having a Saturday breakfast. It’s that Friday all over again.

When Garrett stands up to help her out, I join him. Just for _something_ to be different.

 

I barely talk to Garrett during breakfast. I’m too busy looking around. So many details feel like déjà-vu. I didn’t realize that I spotted so many details without noticing. The brain really is an amazing thing.

When Garrett asks me if I’m alright, I tell him just that and he seems to take it as a valid answer for that question.

But then he asks me the question I’m not ready to face: “And what about Spier? Is today the day you seduce him?” Not. Today is very not the day I seduce him. As a matter of fact, today is the day Cal Price seduces him.

“He’s into someone else,” I reply.

“What? Who?”

“Can we please not talk about it?” Garrett is kind enough to humor me. My mind goes back to the email I know I will receive tonight. The only way to receive another one would be to reveal myself. I think we all know that’s not happening. What would I even say? ‘Please like me more than Cal Price and his stupid ocean eyes’?

 

Reliving today means that I have to relive the English lesson and Abby’s praises about Cal Price. I can literally hear the gears click in Garrett’s head. That’s what I was talking about at breakfast. I hope he won’t bring it up later because I don’t really have an answer for him if he asked me how I know this.

 

I get home straight after school, I use the extra time I have miraculously been given (and I say that with all the sarcasm in the world, because if it were a miracle, I would be reliving a better day than this) to get ahead in my readings.

When I go to bed, I have managed to convince myself that this was a glitch in my existence and that it cannot possibly happen more than once.

Tomorrow will definitely be Saturday.

 

 

**January 9 th **

When my alarm buzzes, I don’t even have to question it. I just know it happened again.

Of course, that’s my life now. Being stuck in the day the first boy I ever fell in love with starts his story with another boy.

Or maybe I’m just going crazy.

Or I died and this is purgatory.

Okay, clearly, I need someone to help me go through this. No need to think twice. I know who would listen to me and believe me.

 

I get to the diner early and Garrett isn’t here yet. I sit at the table and I wait.

I jump, startled, when he seems to appear out of nowhere.

“Good morning sunshine. How are you this fine morning?” But then he sits down, looks at me and reads me like an open book. “Okay. Let me take back the sunshine and the fine morning comments. What’s up?”

“Garrett, I’m going to tell you the craziest story, but I _need_ you to believe me. I _need_ you to help me figure this out.”

“Crazier than your secret online flirt with a guy you could talk to every day if you wanted to?”

“Very much so.”

I don’t know what Garrett sees in my eyes, but his face gets serious all of a sudden. “Fine. I always believe you, you know that. You and I never lie to each other and never leave the other behind. That’s our thing, right?”

“Right. Garrett, as crazy as it sounds, it’s my third time living this specific day.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

I take a deep breath, and I add: “The waitress over there is going to drop her tray of cutlery. Usually, you get up to help her and when you’re done a guy with a green scarf is going to walk in. After that…” But I don’t continue because Garrett’s hand is on my wrist.

“Greenfeld, I believed you the first time. I just wasn’t sure I heard you right.”

This moment feels incredibly formal. Garrett believes this impossible thing just because it comes from me. Only now do I realize how much I needed him to believe me. For someone to be by my side in all of this.

We both jump when the waitress drops her tray and we both get up to help her. Then Garrett compliments the man’s green scarf and the man has this surprised smile on his face, like this simple comment made his day. I’m glad the world still has a few Garretts who help waitresses and understand the importance of little acts of kindness.

“Alright,” Garrett says as soon as we are back at the table. “Tell me more about today. Todays? I’m not sure about the appropriate vocabulary there.”

So I tell him everything and he listens, asking a few questions here and there.

“It’s only the third time,” he tells me when I’m done with the story. “I don’t think we need to panic yet.”

“Of course, you would think that. You’re not the one stuck in a time loop.”

“Actually, I am. I just don’t remember it.” He might have a point there.

“When do we panic?”

“Ten.” He sounds so sure about this number that it calms me instantly. Fine. Seven more Fridays and then I’ll panic.

 

Sharing that with Garrett puts me in a good mood until that stupid English class. The blush on Simon’s face kills me all over again.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 8:23 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

I mean, I get it. Just because I was careless doesn’t mean it’s fair to push you into revealing yourself before you’re ready. And believe me, I’m the freaking expert on that. But now you know my superhero identity and I don’t know yours – and that’s weird, right?

I don’t know what else to say. Anonymity served a purpose for us, and I get that. But now I want to know you for real.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

This time, reading Simon’s email properly annoys me. I hate that he can get me worked up like that. I hate that Garrett manages to calm me about this whole time-loop situation, and a look from his grey eyes puts me back in hell, terrified that _this day_ is going to be _every day_.

So I do the childish thing and I send the passive-aggressive email that had been on my mind this entire time.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 8:41 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Well, Blue is kind of my superhero identity, so you’re really talking about my civilian identity. But that’s obviously miles away from the point. It’s just that I don’t know what else to say. I’m truly sorry, Simon.

Anyway, it looks like things are working out the way you wanted them to. So, good for you.

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 9:04 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Really?

 

Working out the way I wanted them to? What the heck are you talking about?

???

Simon.

 

 

I really don’t know what to make of that email. Either Simon really is the most casual liar and he just thinks that I don’t know about the Cal thing, or he was telling the truth in English when he said that it was nothing. But then why would he blush?

And then the ‘love’ is gone. It’s fine. It will be back next Friday. I guess there is a silver lining after all.

 

 

**January 9 th **

Fourth in a row. Still not enough to panic.

 

Convincing Garrett is as easy today as it was last Friday. But he is mortified when he learns that we didn’t do any research on our issue the first time I told him. He keeps calling it our situation because according to him even though I’m the only one remembering, we’re all in this together and I’m the one who has to save humankind from it. I have this weird feeling that he’s only half-joking.

 

After school, Garrett goes home with me. My mother works night shifts on Friday nights and I have a very strict ‘no friends, no boys and no boyfriends in the house – unless it’s Garrett’.

We order pizza and we sit on my bedroom floor – my mom would kill me if she knew I ate in my room – trying to understand more of the rules of this rebooting day.

“Do you know when the day restarts?”

“I’m guessing midnight.”

“You might want to get sure.”

“How?”

“Do you want me to stay with you and you see what time I disappear?”

“I’m pretty sure that would scare me for life.”

“Okay, then move something and see when it goes back to its original place. Actually, maybe it’s like Toy Story. Maybe if you don’t fall asleep, the day can’t reboot and you’re good to go.”

“I doubt that.”

“Okay, but it’s worth trying, no?”

“Sure, I guess.” I let out a frustrated noise. “Why couldn’t I get stuck in a great day. Why does it have to be today?”

“It might be a blessing in disguise.”

“What? How?”

“Think about it. It would be worse to be stuck in a perfect day. You can only mess it up. This time though, you can only make things better. Plus can you imagine reliving your first kiss with Simon?”

“Hum… Yes, I can. It sounds like heaven.”

“It would. For a fortnight or so. And then you’ll realize that it’s where you’re stuck forever. No handsy stuff, no sex, no growing old together.”

“Okay, I get your point.” Garrett might be wiser than I thought. “Still. There would be something with Simon. Other than blushing over Cal Price, I mean.”

“Oh, stop it. He said it was nothing. Even you would blush if I asked you about Cal Price. We only have Abby’s view on the situation, and she’d be ready to get Simon with anyone just to make sure he’s happy. She commented on getting _Leah_ a boyfriend, and no one but Leah can get Leah a boyfriend.”

“Sadly for you.”

Garrett shows me his middle finger and grabs another slice of pizza.

 

I am treating Garrett’s idea like a research project homework. I will find out when the day goes back. I’m still pretty sure it’s midnight. That would make sense.

But midnight passes and my phone switched to January tenth. My heart races with hope. Was Garrett right? Does the day not reboot if I don’t sleep?

The more time passes, the more I hope. The all-nighter will be so worth it if it gets me another day.

But I reach 4 a.m. and the date on my phone goes back. The book on my desk teleported. I even feel my body get shifted to adapt to my blanket and pillows moving. This is the most upsetting experience of my entire life.

I feel like calling Garrett, but I can’t. It’s too late. He wouldn’t know what I’m talking about anymore.

 

 

**January 9 th **

Five. Halfway to the panic limit.

 

“Yeah, but at least we made progress,” Garrett tells me after picking up the waitress’s tray. Every day, I’m a little more grateful for Garrett. Because he’s always here, he always believes me, he always catches up so quickly with everything, and this morning, he came to breakfast early because I told him I needed to talk. I really needed to talk about that going back in time situation. Somehow, and I know it’s silly, changing day and going back affects me more than just being stuck in one day. It’s like there is an exit, a horizon that I just can’t reach.

“What progress?” I ask. “It’s still Friday. It’s still the ninth?”

“Yeah, but we know a bit more, don’t we?”

“I guess.”

“Bram, you have to focus on the silver linings or you’ll go crazy. I found out about it less than an hour ago and I’m already nervous about it. So five days… We need to think positive, man. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Greenfeld.”

There is a seriousness in Garrett’s eyes that I don’t see often. I can see he’s concerned about me. So I am equally serious when I repeat: “Okay.”

 

Garrett decided that I should have one ‘homework’ per day. According to him, we have two tasks: find a way to get beyond January tenth four a.m., and sort my January ninth in case it’s all I’m ever going to get.

Garrett doesn’t want me to obsess about this, so he said he would do some research on time loops and time travel? Sure. Physics is his thing anyway. So is science-fiction.

Yet I sort of wished I got that task to do because instead, Garrett tells me that I have to progress on the Simon front since I’m ‘clearly upset about it’. I pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Have you ever considered that what is holding you back, literally, is whatever is happening with Simon?” he asks me. “Maybe the universe is trying to keep you for messing this up.”

“Don’t you think that the universe has better things to do?”

“I don’t think the universe would torment you for no reason. You don’t deserve it.”

“It’s rarely about what people deserve.”

“Still. I want to believe that you have to go through this for a reason.”

I don’t know if I believe that. But really want to.

 

“Garrett, I can’t do this,” I tell him as he’s getting books from his locker. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I don’t know. Tell him you’re Blue. Punch Cal Price. Tell Simon hi has amazing blue eyes. Have a conversation with him. You know, at this point, I’m pretty sure that just reminding him that you exist would be progress.”

“Very funny. And his eyes are grey.”

Garrett lets out a sound that’s half-chuckle, half-snort. “You’re an idiot.”

“Why?”

“You know the color of his eyes but you won’t even talk to him?”

“Excuse me, have you talked to Leah lately?”

“No. But I never pretended I wasn’t an idiot.”

 

I don’t think I’m ready to work on Simon. Which is weird. I know today doesn’t count, and yet I still can’t go wild.

I am however ready to work on Abby. She comes in and, once again, sits half on the arm of the couch, half on Nick. Like every day, he moves to make her room and ends up on her lap. She has that same happy smile that gets a little more annoying every day “You know how you were saying that you were worried that it might be hard for Simon to get a boyfriend in a school where no one is out?” she asks Nick and he nods. “Well, you might not have to worry about that anymore. Do you know who Cal Price is?”

“No idea,” Nick replies.

“Calvin Price,” Garrett says. He was in our chem class last year. He’s in the drama club.”

“Still doesn’t ring a bell,” Nick replies.

“Well,” Abby continues, clearly not noticing that I’d give anything for her to stop talking, “yesterday, during play practice, he very _casually_ mentioned that he is bisexual and then he pretty much asked Simon out.”

Before Nick or Garrett can ask anything, I say: “That seems a bit out of the blue.”

“Not really,” she replies, still smiling. “There’s been a few sparks between them.”

I try to ignore the look of pity that Garrett is giving me as Abby is listing the times she notices looks, conversations or other types of little moments between Simon and Cal. Well done me. I was fishing for proof that Simon and Cal might have been a farfetched idea from Abby’s mind, and instead, I got a list of evidence proving that Cal has done in real life what I tried to do online.

Simon enters and, like every day, Nick asks: “Who, pray tell, is this Calvin fellow?”

Same mumbling, same blushing, very different pain.

 

Garrett doesn’t find anything useful online. Today really was just a useless pile of trash.

Garrett gives me a list of the sites he visited so I can tell him tomorrow. It probably wasn’t the best idea to give the research job to the one person who has to start again every time.

But I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself to do any research tonight.

 

I go to bed early. Whatever happens, I _have to_ be asleep before four.

 

 

**January 9 th **

For my sixth day of time limbo, I team up with Garrett to do some research. We don’t really find anything, but I learn the name of all the different types of time travel.

I try to ignore Simon’s stupid blushing over Cal Price. I don’t ask Abby any stupid question today. I’m not sure my heart, my self-esteem or my sanity could take more details about Simon and Cal right now.

After school, Garrett comes to my house and we watch a bunch of movies based on time loops. Groundhog Day, Before I fall, Run Lola Run, Source Code … and then I can’t really take it anymore. Those are movies. Movies are always better than real life. Those can’t help me. They terrify me, even. There is either that idea of ellipsis, telling me that I am going to be stuck here for a very long time, if not ever, the idea of free will against determinism that doesn’t really seems to go my way at the moment, or the idea that I’m just crazy or dying, that all of that is just in my head… I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to make it better.

For the first time, I let the anguish take over so I can let it out and I burst into tears. Garrett stays through all my meltdown. He stays until we both fall asleep on the couch.

 

When I wake up at five a.m., I’m in my bed. I don’t need to check. I know that Garrett isn’t here. He is in his bed too, or wherever he is every January ninth at five a.m.

 

 

**January 9 th **

It’s now been a week of January ninth.

Although I would love for today to be different, I know it won’t. the universe apparently doesn’t care about symbols. My days don’t even reboot at midnight.

 

I was right. Today is the same magma of details I can change lost in the mass of everything that remains the same.

I don’t even enjoy school anymore.

 

It’s also been over a week since I’ve seen my mom for the last time. I try to call her twice but can only reach her voicemail.

 

 

**January 9 th **

It’s the eighth time I’m going through today. It’s starting to really terrify me. Especially as I am getting closer to the ten days limit given by Garrett. I know he picked that day somewhat randomly, but it seemed reassuring when I was far from reaching it. Now, it feels like a deadline I’m about to miss.

But it’s also the day a miracle happens. Today, I decide to take the longest way to lunch (after eight days of nothing but the same, you get your novelty where you can) and I bump into Simon by the library. He apparently just returned some books.

He smiles gently at me. “Hi, Bram.” And he starts walking with me. I guess it’s not weird. We are _literally_ going to the same place. It’s just odd for me because I’m in love with him and he barely knows who I am.

“So… you and Cal?” I ask. I’m not sure why. Apparently, my brain doesn’t think that I’m in pain enough lately.

“You shouldn’t listen to everything Abby says. She just wants to see romance everywhere.”

“I’ve seen your blush.” OH COME ON. SHUT UP BRAIN.

Simon blushes again. “Yeah, well… I mean Cal is cute, and he _did_ ask me out, but…” Simon’s voice dies out.

My stupid heart which never learns skips a beat, full of hope. “But?” I prompt him.

“You’re probably not that interested, and it’s weird small talk.”

“No, that’s fine. We’re friends, right?” That’s clearly pushing it, and Simon makes a weird face, like he doesn’t know what to think of my statement.

Against all odds, he answers anyway. “It’s just that… there’s someone else. But please don’t tell Abby, she’ll make it weird.”

We reach the lunch table and, because Abby is there, Simon stops talking and joins Leah. It’s fine. I don’t think I could have focused on anything anyway. _Someone else_. Is that me?

 

That night, I email Simon before he does.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 6:41 PM

SUBJECT: Cal Price

 

That’s who you thought I was, right?

How disappointed were you to know that I wasn’t?

That’s a high bar to set. What happens when I can’t meet your expectations?

Love,

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: 9 Jan at 7:17 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Cal Price

 

Oh, God. Please tell me that Abby’s rumor didn’t make it all the way to your ears. Although given your email, I’m guessing it did.

Yes, I did think you were Cal Price. Don’t ask me why, I already feel like an idiot enough as it is.

But… disappointed? What are you talking about? I was a bit disappointed that it meant that I still don’t know who you are and I’m still in the dark. But disappointed about you not being Cal? Never.

I don’t know how high of a bar Cal might be. Because yours is so much higher. Do you really not know that? There can’t be any Cal if there is a you.

Love,

Simon.

 

 

I’m so happy I could cry.

 

For the first time in ages, I go to bed warm and happy, wrapped in Simon’s words that sounded very much like a love letter.

 

 

**January 9 th **

Today is my day.

I know it. I feel it.

 

Today, I am going to tell Simon that I’m Blue. Simon who doesn’t know who I am but still picks me over Cal.

Today, I’ll get the day to not restart. Just before the tenth January ninth.

 

Today, I grab the tray before it falls.

 

Today, I tell Abby that she shouldn’t discuss Simon’s dating life in public when it’s not even sure yet.

 

Today, Garrett looks at me like he’s proud of me.

 

But today, when I find Simon after school by his locker, I completely chicken out and just ask him his notes from English. He looks properly surprised – and sure, everyone knows that people come _to me_ for notes – but he gives them to me anyway.

Well done Greenfeld. The guy likes you. You know you can just do it again if you mess up. But still, you can’t find it in you to do it.

I totally get why the universe is punishing me.

 

 

**January 9 th **

This is it. The tenth time. I know it was an arbitrary deadline, but I’m still panicking.

 

“We shouldn’t go to school today,” Garrett tells me over pancakes.

“What? Why?”

“Because we need to keep your mind off this stupid rule I made, and playing hooky seems like a good way to do that.”

“’Playing hooky’? How old are you?”

“What do you say, Greenfeld?” Garrett ignores me. “You, me, my car, any activity you want.”

“I can’t do that. I never missed school, Garrett.”

“Okay. But you’ve lived this day. Any knowledge you could get from today, you have it already. And there won’t be any consequences. Tomorrow will be today. Come on. Isn’t there anything you’d like to do?”

I take a moment to think about it. Even if today ends up being the days that doesn’t reboot, Garrett is right. I need a bit of fresh air and novelty. I need to get a feeling of freedom. Plus, I’d take any punishment for January tenth.

“I want to see the sea,” I whisper.

 

Garrett and I drive south. We don’t stop until we see a beach. Then we sit on the sand and look at the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky melt together.

We talk about everything but rebooting days.

For the first time ever, I say out loud that I’m in love with Simon Spier. It feels true, reassuring and beautiful. Tomorrow. I’ll get him tomorrow. It’s not wishful thinking anymore. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m ready and I want this.

 

After a day of walking around a small town we don’t know, Garrett and I decide not to go back. We fall asleep in his car, facing the sea.

 

 

**January 9 th **

“Simon? Can I talk to you?”

It’s after school, I’ve built this up in my head all day, I’m ready. And if it doesn’t work, I won’t panic. There is always day twelve. Then thirteen. And if it works, great. I’ll have day twelve, thirteen and all the others to get Simon again.

But it all starts today.

“Sure. What’s up? Is it about Leah?”

“About… What?”

Simon frowns, then says: “Nothing. I should really just stop assuming things. What can I help you with?”

“It’s me.” Those two words took me everything I have. But they’re out there. Finally.

“I can see that,” he replies with a smile. But then his smile fades and I can see that everything is on the brink of falling into place.

I give it an extra nudge. “Sorry it took me so long. I just didn’t know if you’d prefer someone with blue eyes, who likes to draw and who pushes you on chairs.”

Simon looks a bit overwhelmed. I probably shouldn’t have ambushed him like that. He raises his hand and, for a moment, I’m so sure he’s about to touch my face. But then he doesn’t and just lets his hand fall back down.

“It’s you!” There are an awe and a tenderness in his voice that make me wonder why I waited so long.

“It’s me.”

Abby suddenly appears but Simon’s locker. “Hi, Bram! Simon, are you ready?”

“Hum. No. Go ahead. I’ve got stuff to do.” His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“We’re your ride.”

“I’ll take him home,” I reply and Abby seems to understand what it means.

“Oh. Sure. So I guess I won’t see you later tonight then?” she asks Simon.

“What?” he finally breaks eye contact to look at her. “Oh, right. No. I’m sure you and Nick won’t mind the alone time.”

“Right. _Me and Nick_.” Then she winks at us and disappears.

“Sorry about Abby,” Simon tells me, visibly anxious that I’m about to freak out. “She’s a bit… but she won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t mind.” And I truly don’t. not just because it won’t matter tomorrow. I’d be more than happy to live any day with Simon and out. Even if it’s because Abby can sometimes speak too much.

“You don’t?”

“I think I’m ready.”

“To be out?”

“For us,” I reply and I can feel my cheeks burn. But Simon is smiling widely.

“Do you have any plans now?” he asks.

“Not really. But I have an empty house.” That is the most daring I’ve ever been, but it pays off when Simon agrees to go to my place with me.

 

This is probably the best Friday night of my life. First, we talk about everything, starting with Jacques and Blue, slowly moving to Simon and me.

I thought it would be awkward and hard, talking to Simon. But actually, it almost immediately feels like emailing Jacques. I am less careful with words, we discuss different things, but it’s better in a way. Jacques and Blue have been useful for us, but now I want Simon more than Jacques. A real boy, with a real-life in school, experiences we can truly share rather than just tell the other…

Simon calls his parents to tell them that he’s at Nick’s and he isn’t sure when he will get home. It’s a lie, but then again, I’m currently breaking my mom’s only rule, so I can’t really judge.

We get food.

We watch a movie.

We lie in my bed and we keep talking.

About everything but us. And we don’t touch. I desperately want to kiss him, I think he wants it too, but we don’t.

 

“I should go,” Simon says around two.

“You should. But you could stay.”

He looks at me with his moon eyes and now would be a perfect time to kiss. I can physically feel it.

We still don’t.

But Simon stays.

 

It’s three. Should I stay up until 4 and see what would happen? No. I don’t think I could handle watching Simon disappear into thin air and forgetting all about what we just shared. I’d rather let myself fall asleep, like Simon did a few minutes ago, and wake up alone.

That will be less painful.

 

 

 

**January 10 th **

I wake up fully rested. That’s a nice change, I guess. Then I realize that the room is much brighter than it should be. Did I sleep through my alarm? I sit up and my heart stops.

A few inches from me, Simon is sleeping. This one fact has so many truths attached to it: Simon stayed, today is Saturday, Simon stayed, today is January tenth, Simon stayed, today is ANOTHER DAY, and SIMON STAYED.

Okay, maybe there are only two truths attached to that sleeping boy, but they feel like the two biggest news I’ll ever get in my life.

I look at my phone and my heart skips another beat when I see the new date. I also have a text from Garrett that reads ‘Happy January 10th’. He only lived that Friday once and yet he’s relieved for me. Garrett truly is one of a kind.

But for now, I ignore him and lie back next to Simon, turned so I can look at his face. God, he is so beautiful. I really want to run my fingers on his face, but I don’t know if I can. Yesterday – God… I just love being able to say that – was full of promises, but we didn’t actually do or say anything that indicates that I’m allowed to touch him. So I just look at him sleep. I realize that it might be a bit creepy, but… he’s _just there._

Simon wakes up less than a minute later and at first, he looks confused but then his eyes fall on me and the sweetest smile covers his face. I’m a bit embarrassed that he caught me staring, but he discards my awkwardness by asking: “Please tell me I wasn’t snoring.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You weren’t.”

Simon shifts and now we are both on our side, facing each other. He seems nervous. He quickly licks his lips and then bites on his lower lip. I can’t focus on anything other than his mouth now. My heart is beating fast.

My eyes move up to his and I know he can tell I was staring at his lips. I’m about to apologize for that when his eyes fall on my lips and there is the most delicious pain in my stomach.

“Blue…” he whispers and that makes me smile.

“Jacques,” I answer and that makes him smile.

“We didn’t discuss the obvious yesterday.”

“What would the obvious be?” I ask, falsely as oblivious as him.

“What do we want from each other?”

And because today is January 10th, and that needs celebrating, I feel this burst of courage pushing the words out of my mouth: “I know I haven’t been the greatest at showing it these past few days, but I want you. I’ve had a crush on Simon pretty much since day one, and I slowly but indubitably fell for Jacques over the months.”

“Indubitably,” Simon repeats, barely audible. “I’m always so amazed by your mind. As Blue or as Bram. And I’m the stupid boy who sees signs where there aren’t any and who guessed the wrong name, and… Are you _sure_ you want to be with me? I’m a mess.”

“Everyone’s a mess in their own way. You’re just the most charming and attractive mess I’ve met.”

I can see him blush and, to be fair, I didn’t think I had it in me to say that to his face. It was completely worth it, though, because Simon slides towards me and next thing I know we are kissing.

I am considering letting my fingers touch his face – Surely it’s allowed now, right? – when my alarm goes off. I detach my lips from Simon’s so I can switch it off.

“Of course, Blue would have an alarm on Saturday mornings.”

“It’s so I would be awake when my mom comes back from her night shift,” I explain. “I always prepare a late breakfast for us on Saturdays.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Sorry?”

“Should I leave before she comes back or do you want me to stay? You know… to meet her.”

“Meet her? You mean…”

“As your boyfriend?” he asks, and I can hear the insecurity in his voice.

Introducing Simon as my boyfriend to my mom? That sounds terrifying and amazing at the same time.

“Are you ready for that?”

“Being your boyfriend or meeting your mom?”

“Either.”

“I’m ready for both. I am so ready for us to exist off-line.”

“Alright, then. Let’s tell my mom that I have a boyfriend.”

He smiles happily and asks: “Do you need help preparing breakfast?”

“I would love to prepare breakfast with you, but we have at least fifteen minutes before we really need to start.” His lips are on mine before I can even finish that sentence.

All those January ninth were so worth it! Actually… I already know that I wouldn’t mind living a few more January tenth…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also thought about the 'what if they were both stuck in a time loop story', but I promise I'll write a few different chapters before even contemplating this one. I will bring back a bit of diversity before you all get fed up! :)


	37. What if Bram heard Simon refer as 'Cute Bram'?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Abby asks Simon to pick one boy and he picks Cute Bram Greenfeld, no one was supposed to hear. Especially not Cute Bram Greenfeld.

Coming out to Abby was very freeing. It felt like I could do anything. If I can come out to her, then I know I will be able to tell my family. And then my friends. Then the world won’t seem so relevant anymore.

It’s also a step closer to Blue. We both know that there won’t ever be a possibility of us if we’re still in the closet. He came out to his mother, I came out to Abby, we both took a step toward being properly out and – or at least it’s what it feels like – each other.

Yes, it was a good thing. A great thing.

But it’s also a bit annoying. Because now, Abby is giving me looks whenever I mention a boy, look at a boy, stand within five miles of a boy… I know it’s not like she thinks I would be into anyone just because I'm gay, I think she’s desperate to get me my happy ending or something. It still makes me uncomfortable.

Especially since she’s with me in drama club and she gives me The Look when I am talking to Cal. Obviously there is something going on there, and it can’t happen smoothly with Abby’s stupid eyes pointed at us the entire time. Plus, and more importantly, if Cal is indeed Blue, she might scare him away.

What an evil twist of events would it be if coming out to Abby ended up being what drove Blue away. So… yeah… she needs to chill.

 

“What’s going on between you and Cal?” she asks me as we leave play practice, definitely not chilling. As Abby always has to wait for her bus anyway, we volunteered to tidy everything up, so it’s just the two of us.

“Nothing is happening between me and Cal.”

“Really? It’s not what it looked like.”

“Of course not,” I tell her as we leave the auditorium after putting all the costumes away. “Because you’re trying to see things happening between me and any junior boy.”

“Hey, I’m not picky. Choose a senior. Or a sophomore. Just… maybe avoid the freshmen, okay?”

“Very funny.”

“But seriously… You and Cal… there’s really nothing there?”

I can’t answer that. There is something there, it’s true, but… Either Cal is Blue, and there is no way I’m telling Abby about Blue. Being gay was personal. Blue is intimate. I’m fine sharing personal details with Abby, but the only person I can share intimate information with is Blue. Then there is also the possibility that Cal is not Blue. In that case, there is nothing between me and Cal. Nothing important anyway. I know I could so easily walk away from whatever is happening with Cal for as little as the possibility of Blue.

“Nope. We get on well, but that’s it.”

“Okay,” she says as if she is trying to persuade herself that she believes me. “What is your type then?”

“My type?”

“Yes. If you had to pick a boy in junior year that was gay and into you, who would it be?”

“Abby…”

“Come on! I won’t make it weird, I won’t tell him anything, and I get that he will be straight anyway. I’m just curious.”

“Fine… if I had to pick one boy, I guess I would pick…” Blue. Whoever he is. But I can’t say that. In a world without Blue, in a world without Cal, who would I be daydreaming about? “Bram, I guess.”

“Bram? Greenfeld?”

“Yes, Bram Greenfeld. What’s wrong with Cute Bram?”

“Nothing. And pause for a minute. ‘Cute’ Bram?” Abby’s smile is so wide that I’m afraid her face might crack.

“Oh, come on. It’s not just me, right? He is one hundred percent adorable, right?” I don’t know why, but it’s important to me that she sees just how cute and adorable Bram is, with his blush, his soft eyes, his soccer calves… I’m about to tell her all about that when the most embarrassing of my life happens: we walk by the changing room and the door is wide open on Bram and Garrett, apparently about to leave too, wet from their post-practice shower, both looking mortified.

 

*

 

“You’re an idiot, Greenfeld”.

The only reason why Garrett is talking to me right now is that he knows I’m uncomfortable talking when we’re showering. I know we can’t see each other, but the fact that we can communicate sort of takes away all the privacy that the stalls give us.

We’re the only ones left. Most of the guys prefer showering at home unless they got particularly muddy. Garrett too, I think, but he knows I like showering immediately so he always stays with me.

“And why exactly am I an idiot?” I ask anyway.

“If that guy keeps asking you to meet, and you really want to meet him too… why aren’t you just saying yes?”

“Because as long as we keep things online, he’s in my life. But what if we meet and I’m not his type? Or I have to admit that it was all in my head and that he just wants to be friends?” Or, and I can’t tell Garrett that, what if I guessed wrong and he is not Simon? Lately, that prospect terrifies me. Mostly because I can’t separate the two of them in my head anymore.

“Well I can’t decide for you, but I’m pretty sure you will regret this if you wait too long,” Garrett tells me and I know he’s right. I also know I’m not going to acknowledge that.

“Can we please discuss this when none of us is naked?”

“Am I distracting you?”

“Who’s the idiot now?”

 

We’re about to leave the changing room after getting dressed and grabbing our bags from our lockers when we hear voices coming our way. I don’t really pay attention to them and just wait for Garrett to be done tying his shoes when one of the voices says: “If I had to pick one boy, I guess I would pick… Bram, I guess.”

My focus instantly shifts to the voices. Garrett freezes as well. It was a boy’s voice. I know there could a thousand context for that sentence, but…

“Bram? Greenfeld?” the other voice asks, interrupting my train of thought. Was that Abby?

“Yes, Bram Greenfeld. What’s wrong with Cute Bram?” _Cute Bram_? And that voice… Did Simon Spier just call me _Cute Bram_?

“Nothing. And pause for a minute. ‘Cute’ Bram?” Thanks, Abby. My thoughts exactly.

“Oh, come on. It’s not just me, right? He is one hundred percent adorable, right?”

I need to calm my heart rate. It might not mean what I think. It might not even mean that Simon is gay. I could pick a girl I would date if I were straight and that wouldn’t make me straight. It might…

Then suddenly, two moon-eyes are looking at me. It is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen because all I can see in them is shame. Not embarrassment, or discomfort, just pure shame.

I want to tell him that’s it’s alright. That his words made me happy. That… I don’t know what I could say.

“Hey Abby,” Garrett says. “How would you feel about you and I leaving first and avoiding the awkwardness?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she agrees.

And those two traitors leave us behind to sort… whatever this is. All I have to do is open my mouth and take Simon out of the mini hell he created for himself. But I can’t. I never know how to speak to Simon Spier.

 

*

 

Bram is not exactly reacting, and I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing. “Bram, listen… about that…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, finally finding his voice.

“Look, I don’t want things to get awkward, and…”

“They’re not. It was flattering more than anything.”

The next words come out of my mouth before I can stop them: “I’m gay.”

“I… what?”

“I’m gay. I… I don’t want you to find out later and think that I tried to tone this down, playing the joke card and… I don’t want things to be weird, but I don’t want them to get weirder later and…”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It’s flattering. We don’t have to read more into it. It’s fine, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Simon, I overheard something that wasn’t meant for me and, sure, it is awkward, but we don’t have to make it worse. If you want to leave this behind, we’ll do just that.”

I let out a breath, relieved. Yes, this is exactly what I want. I want Bram to forget this. It’s confusing enough when only Blue and Cal are thrown in the mix.

“Thank you. And could you…”

“Not tell anyone?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Sure. And don’t worry about Garrett. He’s goofy, but he won’t tell either.”

“Thanks,” I repeat like an idiot. And because things are still a bit awkward, I add: “Do you want me to sit Saturday out?”

“Saturday? You mean the movie?”

“Yeah. If you think it would be weird.”

“Of course not! Don’t be silly!”

Bram genuinely looks like it was a stupid offer. Maybe he really doesn’t care. Which is great because it shows that coming out to the world might not be as big of a deal as I thought it would be. Which is devastating because it means that I am so invisible that being into a guy is considered insignificant by said guy.

As a whole, I should be relieved. Oddly, I am mainly disappointed.

 

*

 

I am trying my best not to freak out. Simon Spier came out to me. Let me rephrase that. Simon Spier is gay. Simon Spier would pick _ME_. I don’t know what for, but then he referred to me as _CUTE BRAM_ , so it can’t be a bad thing, right? Then he said that I was adorable. I’m not sure about that one. Like ‘melt your heart and give you butterflies’, or like bunnies and kittens? I’m hoping the first one. I’m hoping he means it like I would mean it when describing the way I could get lost in his lingering grey eyes.

That’s not the best part, though. The best part is Jacques’ email in which he tells me about sort of having to come out to a boy from school. It’s not even reading between the liens to say that Jacques described to Blue Simon coming out to Bram.

They are the same person. They are into me. It’s just… it’s overwhelming in the best way.

I don’t know why I haven’t replied by telling him who I am. What’s holding me back now? Why am I afraid of? I can’t even answer that question, but there is still this fear in my stomach. I know he could still reject me, but that’s the most sure I’ll ever be. Maybe taking the plunge is terrifying regardless of the level of certainty.

Saturday… Maybe after the movie, I’ll find a way to get him alone and I’ll finally be able to tell him. Face to face. Like it should be.

 

*

 

Bram has been his usual self for the rest of the week. He doesn’t look at me any differently. Again, this is both great and devastating.

I try to ignore it, but I think I’m developing an obsession. Why? Things were fine before Bram made it obvious that I’m not a big deal… Why is this upsetting me that much? How come that Bram now replaced Cal in my daydreaming? How come that I now have the certainty that Cal is not Blue? Not that I think that Bram is, it’s just… I don’t know. I can’t put words on it.

 

I’m still confused on Saturday when the entire lunch table goes to the cinema as a group for the first time. Timings in my life suck. And – of course – I end up sitting next to Bram. I was under the impression that Abby and Garrett were going to sit between us, and then that happened, and it’s not like I can say anything.

So I sit down with a polite smile and brace myself for two hours sitting next to a boy that I have recently developed an interest in, even though I can’t have him.

Thank God he isn’t Blue.

I really hope this movie is going to be interesting.

 

It’s so small that I could completely have missed it. It’s almost not an event. But I noticed it and it feels massive.

Bram and I decide to use the armrest at the same time. It happens. If one of us had moved his arm, it would have been a non-event. But we both left it there, forearm pressed against each other. It could still have been nothing, Bram not paying attention, Bram showing Simon that he doesn’t care about what happened in school. But then our pinkies brush and it feels intentional.

My brain entirely un-focuses from the movie immediately. An inch square of my body is overwhelming my brain with too much information. There is the intensity of the moment and all the questions it carries. I need to be sure. This could terribly backfire, but I slide my little finger on top of Bram’s, afraid that he would quickly move his hand away, in shock or in disgust. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he wraps his little finger around mine.

I can’t believe this is happening. To me. With a boy. With Cute Bram Greenfeld.

For so many obvious reasons, we don’t take this any further. We don’t hold hands, we don’t put our hand on each other’s lap, we don’t lean against one another… I don’t know if we would have, even if one of us had been a girl, even if society was more tolerant, but it would have been nice to have the choice.

Although… it would also be nice to know what it means.

 

*

 

Moving my finger a few millimeters felt like the scariest thing I ever did. But it was so worth it. Here we are, Simon and I, doing the closeted equivalent of hand-holding.

It’s barely a thing and yet it’s everything. My heart is pounding in my chest and I completely lost track of what’s happening on screen.

At some point, I turn my head slightly to look at Simon. He does the same and, when our eyes meet, he smiles at me softly. My entire skin covers in goosebumps. I would give anything right now for the world to disappear, to be allowed to lean in and… Okay, maybe I shouldn’t think about that right now. Let’s just watch the movie.

Wait… I have no idea who this character is…

 

When the credits start rolling, Simon leans forward, as if he were picking something us, and whispers so just I could hear it: “Do you want to go somewhere? Just you and me?”

I nod once.

I quietly tell Garrett that I won’t need a ride home and he smiles. It’s not a knowing smile, it’s not a mischievous smile, it’s a happy smile. I love him for that. He doesn’t ask any questions. I love him even more.

 

We ended up at Simon’s house. We both agreed that we should talk, and we wanted privacy. It’s my mom’s day off, but his parents are at Nora’s hockey game.

His house is so different than mine. It’s messier. Not in a bad way. In a ‘happy, lively family way’. I love it instantly. I know I am getting way ahead of myself, but I can perfectly picture myself hanging out here with Simon and his family. Or just the two of us. Just like now, but I would be allowed to touch him if I wanted to…

“So… what happened today?” Simon asks.

“I guess if I had to pick a boy, it would be you to,” I reply, more daring than I thought I could be.

Simon blushes and he is _one hundred percent adorable_.

“Why didn’t you say something the other day?”

I decide to be brave again. “I told you before. Cute boys get me tongue-tied.”

Watching Simon’s face change as he processes what I just said is extremely entertaining. Then the happiest smile spreads on his face. His grey eyes are almost sparkling, more stars than moon.

“Blue?”

 

*

 

I can’t believe it. I literally can’t believe it. It’s Blue. He’s right there. The little guilty feeling in my stomach disappeared and made room to a warm happy one.

We are still standing awkwardly in the middle of my living room and I don’t know how to reduce the distance between us. I just know I really want to touch him. Quite frankly, I don’t think I ever wanted anything else this strongly ever before.

“What do you want to do?” Bram asks.

“I want to come out to my parents.”

“I’m sorry?” He seems genuinely confused by my answer.

“We shouldn’t start this before we’re ready, right? You should tell your dad and Garrett, and I should tell my parents, Nick and Leah.”

Bram nods. “Garrett knows.”

“Of course, he does,” I reply with a smile. “So I’m way behind, huh?”

Bram walks up to me, soft eyes on my face, petrifying me. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers softly against my cheek. I never felt anything like this before. “I don’t want to wait,” Bram whispers and I shiver.

“Me neither,” I reply just as low. “But I don’t want us to be a secret. Not anymore. Not if we’re really doing this.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret. I want… what if we came out as gay by coming out as a couple?”

“Bram, are you sure? Telling your dad should be about you, not about us.”

“It is about me. About me being gay and about me falling with a boy. I wouldn’t mind coming out to my dad by telling him that I have a boyfriend. Would you?”

I ignore his question to focus on the most important part: “Boyfriend?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Bram sounds nervous and a bit sad. I know I shouldn’t be happy about that, but I just think it’s great that the idea of us not being boyfriends would do that to him.

“Of course it’s what I want!” Bram smiles. So I smile.

“So what do you want to do, Simon?”

“Just that. Exactly what you said.”

Bram closes the distance between us.

I don’t know how long we stay there, standing by the DVD shelves, softly kissing like it’s breathing, but it still ends sooner than I would like.

 

*

 

Simon asked me if I would like to do this with him, and I do. I know I could have said no, but I want to stand by him. I want to share that moment with him.

The door opens and I hear laughs. Then a very muddy Nora walks into the kitchen where we were having a snack. “Si, guess who won, _again_. It’s… oh. Hi, Bram.”

“Hi, Nora.” We go to the same school so we both know who the other one is, but it is my first interaction with her.

Simon’s parents come in as well. “Oh, hello!”

“Hello, Mrs. Spier. I’m Bram.”

“Nice to meet you, Bram. But, please, I’m Emily. This is Jack. Are you a friend from school?”

I like how she’s asking me directly instead of asking Simon like Garrett’s parents did when I met them. I could as well have been invisible. Which I didn’t especially mind, but right now I don’t want to be invisible. Simon needs me to not be invisible. “I am,” I confirm.

“Well, actually…” Simon starts. “Mom, Dad, can we speak to you for a minute? Nora, you can stay if you want.”

And here it is. Jacques and Blue becoming real to the world.

 

 


	38. What if an arranged marriage was involved?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram is in love with Jacques. But in his world, men cannot love other men. And even if they could, it wouldn't matter. Bram cannot choose who he will love, man or woman. Bram will have to marry Alice Spier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's try something new again.  
> It takes much more than 8000 to develop a proper fantasy world (even without magic and all the fun stuff), so I hope this has enough to build a context for their lives in this world even if the treatment is quite shallow.
> 
> Also, most characters are very OOC.
> 
> I hope you like it!

It was an odd tradition. More importantly, it was an old tradition. The kind that is so lost in time that no one would still be able to tell how it started with anything else than stories that might have been completely made up, the kind that everyone accepts and no one ever thinks of challenging, because it is just how things are.

Bram himself would never have thought about the legitimacy of the tradition and the oath if it weren’t for how everything played out.

 

The Sky Territories are ruled by five prestigious families, descendants of the five Great Warriors who ended the centennial war between the Sky Territories and the Grass Lands. That peace treaty contained an oath. When a son is born, he is twinned to a girl from one of the eight sovereign families of the Grass Lands. If the boy’s family gets another son and if the girl’s family gets another daughter, the two will be married when they reach their eighteenth birthday.

That is how Bram Greenfeld got twinned from birth to Alice Spier, one year his elder. Alice got a brother. Then Alice got a sister. She was then linked to Bram by the oath. Then Bram’s mother couldn’t get pregnant again and he grew up thinking that he would never have to follow the tradition. If he reached his eighteenth birthday without a younger brother, he wouldn’t be subjected to the Oath.

But then his father got his mistress pregnant. According to the law of the Territories, he was allowed to accept the bastard child as his own and he did. The child is not there anymore, but it will be born one month before Bram’s eighteenth birthday.

If it’s a girl, Bram remains free. If it’s a boy, Bram will have to marry Alice Spier.

 

Bram could have done worse. He knows her – when you are linked to someone, potentially forever, you meet them at some point – and she is pretty, intelligent, funny,  resourceful… Bram is sure she would make a fantastic wife.

But Bram doesn’t want a wife. Bram wants something that is frowned upon for most and forbidden if you belong to the Prestigious Five or the Sovereign Eight. Bram wants a man. Not even any man. Bram wants Jacques.

Jacques is a boy that Bram met when he was visiting the Grass Lands with his parents two years ago. They were only together for one evening, but whenever he closes his eyes, Bram can picture himself back there, talking to that boy all night. He was fun, passionate, interesting and, for some miracle reason, Bram found himself able to talk to him. Actually engage a conversation with a cute guy.

And boy was he cute. The hair. The smile. The eyes. Everything about his eyes. From their moon color to the way they lingered on Bram’s face…

They escaped the mundane party and ended up on the roof, looking at the sky, talking about everything.

They both realized that they didn’t remember the other one’s name – if they ever actually exchanged them – at the same moment they realized they were both gay. They then decided to go for aliases. It felt safer that way. It felt even more out of time. Bram became Blue. That allowed him to be more real, free and true than he had been in a long time. Maybe ever. And Jacques was there, seeing the real him and liking it.

Bram gave his first kiss that night. In so many ways, it was a kiss of convenience. And yet it wasn’t. There wasn’t even the smallest part of Bram that didn’t want this moment to happen there, then, with this grey-eyed boy that touched his soul. The kiss was beyond perfection. It left Bram happy and wanting more.

But he couldn’t have more. It wasn’t his world. And even if it was, it wasn’t his life. Until he reaches eighteen, Bram isn’t free. Especially not to fall in love. Particularly with a boy.

Bram saw Jacques twice after that.

The second time he saw Jacques was at a conference for young officers. As a member of the Prestigious Five, Bram had to undertake military training. Once a year, there is a networking event Bram doesn’t remember seeing Jacques there before. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t notice another unknown face in the crowd. That time though, Bram saw him the moment he walked into the room, dashing in his uniform. There was no way the two of them could escape the event and just be together. This was too important and people would have noticed. So they found a way to exchange notes during the day. It was thrilling, exciting and so completely stupid. Bram tried to find ways to keep the correspondence alive once they would leave without having to exchange names. In the end, they were nearly found out and he had to face that this was nothing but a nice dream. He was lucky enough to have gotten something tangible to remember Jacques by, and this would have to be it. Every single note is still saved, hidden in a secret compartment of Bram’s desk. Sometimes, at night, he reads them again and it makes him feel warm, happy and desperate at the same time.

Against all odds, they met again a third time. It was Alice Spier’s eighteen birthday party. She was supposed to be free then, end the Oath that was binding them together. Instead, she decided to take a vow. It is something that can be done sometimes. Mainly people who have been twinned together, do not have siblings – or the wrong gender of siblings – and decide to get married anyway. Sometimes, having to spend that much time together all your life is all you need to fall in love. Bram isn’t sure if that’s what happened with Alice. Probably not. They had met a few times, but they never actually _spend that much time together_. Still. There she was, promising to wait at least until the gender of the baby was revealed. Then what? Did she expect he would marry her regardless of said gender? Because Bram is not going to. He will only marry Alice Spier if he is forced to by law. He is sorry if that causes her pain, but not sorry enough to spend a lifetime lying. Not sorry enough to have stopped himself that night.

Bram had to go to that party. It would have been disrespectful not to. But because the gender of the baby was still unknown, he could still hide behind the excuse of virtue to spend really little time with her. He met her parents, but not her siblings.

He did, however, run into Jacques in an empty corridor. Past the initial shock and surprise, they both starting talking, in that same empty corridor. About everything but why they were here, or that kiss they exchanged. Bram was happy about the first one – for obvious reasons – and somewhat upset about the second. There was nothing he wanted more, in that moment, however inappropriate the place and timing was, than kiss Jacques again. By then, he already knew all his notes off by heart. The sweet ones, the important ones, the mundane ones, the steamy ones… But, most importantly, he had been reliving that kiss over and over again. The Jacques looked at him. The way his hands cupped his face so gently. The happy smile on his face after. The way it made him feel. Bram wanted that again.

Then everything happened so fast. They heard footsteps. There was absolutely nothing wrong about two people talking in a corridor, but they got nervous anyway and Jacques pulled Bram in the nearest room. As they were both leaning against the door, waiting for whoever was there to leave, Bram realized they were in a bedroom. From what he could see, it was a boy’s room. Probably Simon Spier’s. Bram was about to ask Jacques if he ever met Simon Spier, just to make conversation again, when he was completely silenced by the way Jacques was looking at him. Eyes that were seeing him, wanting him, and sending all sorts of things down his spine and stomach.

Bram finally got what he wanted, and he kissed Jacques again. Bram had this gut instinct – at this party where his twinned girl denied him his best chance to be sure to be free to live a life he could have at least partially chose – that this was it. It would be the last time he saw Jacques or, at least, the last time he would see him with some kind of liberty. He doesn’t know if Jacques felt it too, but they didn’t just kiss that night. Bram isn’t sure if he was truly completely ready for that, but he knew he needed it. That connection with that boy he grew so close to in so few interactions. So Bram lost his virginity in what might or might not have been Simon Spier’s bedroom to a boy he felt he knew so well even if he knew nothing about him.

However terrifying the whole thing was, it was also wonderful. It felt real, and Bram could see all of his emotions, the good and the bad ones, mirrored in these eyes that he would never be able to forget. And Jacques’ hand never left Bram’s, not even once, the entire time.

What happened next is what assured Bram that he would never ever regret doing that. They stayed there for hours, facing each other, gently cuddling, talking again.

“Should we leave?” Bram asked after a while. Jacques looked at him, his big grey eyes wide open, obviously unsure of what Bram meant. Bram would love to have been courageous enough to have meant it completely. But he didn’t, so he added: “The room, I mean. I think maybe we pushed our luck. Someone will come and claim this bed at some point.”

Jacques frowned for a second, but simply replied: “Trust me. We’re fine.”

“I just…”

“I know. But no one will find us here. Stay with me. I’ll find a way to sneak you out before sunrise.”

Of course, Bram stayed. He completely trusted that Jacques knew what he was talking about when he said no one would come in – after all he was from the Grass Lands and he probably knew this family. Even if he didn’t, though, he would have stayed. After all, he knew that there was a good chance that Alice Spier already noticed he disappeared. Bram didn’t need convincing to stay. If he could, he would have made that night stay forever.

But the sun came up, Jacques helped Bram get out discreetly, he went back to his own guest bedroom, Alice did not ask any question when he saw her before breakfast to announce her that he had to leave if he wanted to be back to his home before nightfall. That was a lie, of course, he would definitely be home after nightfall regardless. He just didn’t want to face her. He was ashamed of what happened the night before. Not that it happened, but that it happened under her roof when she was professing her loyalty to him. And Bram didn’t want shame to be one of the feelings he remembered when thinking about that night.

 

Bram thinks about that night regularly. Sometimes, when he feels lonely and lost in a world that was not designed for him, he wraps himself in the memory of any of that night, or any of his interactions with Jacques, and tries to get that warm, happy feeling back. Sometimes, he daydreams of a world in which he wouldn’t have to pine over Jacques or trying to delay the moment he would have to let him go forever, but could contemplate a life with him. Some other times, he wakes up in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathing fast, remembering Jacques’ touch on his skin.

 

On a Tuesday evening, Bram hears a knock on his door. Just from the sound, he knows it’s his mother.

“Come in.”

She walks in, small steps, back straight, stiff neck, serious face on. When is the last time his mother took some time to relax? Bram doesn’t remember seeing her carefree and happy. Maybe when he was younger. She sits in front of him, able to lean back on the chair and still look graceful. Bram is certain that her posture is not comfortable.

“Good evening, Mother.”

“Bram. What are you working on?”

“Is that why you came here? Check on the work Father gave me?”

“Of course, not. I came to check on you. You seem… distant, lately.”

“I am sorry, I am just…”

“Thinking about that baby?”

“I guess so.”

“Thinking about it won’t change that the baby will be born.”

“I know.”

“I think it is time to invite the Spiers.”

“Why? The baby might be a girl. There might be no wedding.”

“And the baby might be a boy. In which case, there will be a wedding. Alice Spier could have gotten married this past year. They will not let us delay very long past your birthday, therefore the birth. We need to start the negotiations.”

Bram suddenly feels less like a person and more like a trade good. The negotiations. Who will leave their country for the other one? Which family will pay a dowry, and how much? Who pays for what in the wedding? Which last name will be kept? Which culture should any potential children be brought up in?

Brams knows that he won’t have any say in the matter. Nor will Alice. His parents will sit with her parents and everything will be decided behind closed doors. Then he will be presented with a contract that, in theory, he will sign if he is happy with the terms. In reality, he will sign it no matter what.

“Sure,” Bram answers. “If you think that’s appropriate.”

“Forget appropriate. At this stage, it is necessary.” Bram nods but doesn’t reply. He refocuses his attention on the papers in front of him, hoping that it would be the end of this conversation.

“You know, it would be easier for you if you entered this marriage with some excitement,” his mother tells him. “Or at least positivity.”

Bram looks up. His mother was from the Grass Lands when she married his father. And arranged marriage just like the one he is about to contract. He knows he should ask his parents about it. His father could tell him all about being twinned with someone from another country. His mother can tell him all about the culture of his – maybe – future wife or the place he might move to. But he can’t. Because he knows they are unhappy. What sort of advice could they give him? ‘Don’t do it’ would probably be a good one, but they all know he doesn’t have this option.

“There is a chance the baby will be a girl.”

“And I could not have had any sisters. I got three. And your father’s older brother might not have died at birth. Yet here we are. You cannot plan for what you would like, Bram, you have to plan for what might be.”

“What would happen if I didn’t go through it? She is over eighteen and a vow is not as binding as the Oath.”

“That’s true. Would you risk offending her family and bringing out two countries back into conflict?”

“We have been at peace for four generations.”

“Yes. Because both countries have been respecting the treaty, every part of it, including every twin weddings. Do you think I wanted to leave my home, my friends and my entire family? I did not. But I had a duty larger than me. So do you. You will forget what you want and you will marry the Spier girl.”

“I don’t think we’ll make each other happy.”

“She took a vow. You will make her happy. For a while. Plus, it’s not about your happiness.  Even you should understand that we are all ready to sacrifice your marital happiness for the good of an entire nation. Two nations, really. You will find joy somewhere else. You like literature. Do that. Or history. Or become a general. Plus, one day, she will give you children. It will have been worth it then.”

“It wasn’t for Father.”

“It was. For a long time, actually. Until he realized that _children_ were not an option. Unless… well… you know what happened.”

“Do you resent him?”

“Twenty years is a very long time. Your father and I… Your wife will not resent you. Because you will not disrespect her.”

‘Too late,’ Bram thinks.

“Mother, if the baby is a girl and if we have to go through with this wedding… Could you try to postpone it? Even for a little bit? Just so I get to know her?”

“It will all be decided during the negotiations. You know that. Besides, what good would that do? You will have to marry her anyway.”

“Yes, but… there are steps that will be awkward to take with a stranger.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sex, Mother. I am talking about sex.”

She looks at him like one would a naughty child giving attitude. “What about it?”

“What is expected of me exactly? Am I supposed to marry a stranger and then just climb in bed with her?”

“Do not be crude.” Bram isn’t exactly sure how asking the question is any cruder than what they expect from him. His mother continues: “And do not worry about that. When the moment comes, it will be fine. Men are natural at this, you’ll see.”

Bram has a big problem with this statement. Several, actually. First, what sort of stereotype is this? Is this what every man is told before an arranged marriage? What about the ones who do not feel like that? Do they feel like failures if they cannot be attracted to a stranger? Second, even if this statement was true, what does that make of the girl? Are they natural too or are they enduring whatever comes their way? Bram is not at all comfortable with that idea. And finally… there is the other reason Bram isn’t looking forward to that night. But he cannot tell his mother, can he?

His mother closes the topic by saying: “We are inviting them anyway. Get to know her then. And if you find that you cannot be attracted to her, talk to your Father. Talk to your friends. Talk to your Tutor. I am sure at least one of them can tell you more about this topic.”

And she leaves.

 

Bram doesn’t want to have the Spiers over. What if it is decided that Alice will stay here and she doesn’t leave before the birth? Will he have to pretend falling in love with her to preserve something he doesn’t even want?

But then, there are those nights when Bram is in bed, looking at the moon because he cannot sleep, and it reminds him of Jacques’ eyes. Jacques who seemed to know so much about the Spier castle. Bram always thought he was a member of the Sovereign Eight, but maybe he isn’t. Maybe he is a guard, an adviser or a squire. Maybe he will accompany them. Maybe Bram will get the chance to see him one more time. Be given one more encounter before he has to close this chapter of his life.

 

The moment Bram’s wish is granted to him, he wishes it hadn’t been. Jacques is here. In the grand hall of the palace, dashing in his official uniform, standing straight behind his parents, between his two sisters, trying not to show that he is as devastated as Bram.

Perhaps, after all, they should have exchanged names. Deep down, Bram always knew that Jacques was a part of the Sovereign Eight. He simply didn’t face that fact in case he would have to consider this reality. That Simon Spier was a boy his age from a Sovereign family. Maybe he should have been less foolish.

This is the worst-case scenario. If he marries Alice, he won’t be able to close the Jacques chapter properly because they will be a part of each other’s life. If he doesn’t marry Alice, he still won’t be able to pursue the Jacques possibility, ever, even if he were brave enough to do so. Jacques – Simon – probably wouldn’t do that to Alice and relationships with a sibling of your twin partner are highly forbidden.

That night, Bram should have been even more foolish and actually ask Simon to leave with him. Perhaps they could have run away to the Sun Islands and they would be happy now. Instead of trying desperately not to look at each other whilst their hearts silently crumble in their chests.

 

After the official introduction – and Bram has to agree with his mother now: maybe it was long due; maybe things would have been easier if he just hadn’t been so stubborn – the Spiers are taken to their private rooms.

Bram is charged to show Alice to hers. It is the most awkward moment of his entire life.

“Thank you, Abraham,” she tells him when he indicates her door.

“Please, call me Bram.” A radiant smile appears on her face, and Bram doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he asks everyone to call him that.

“Bram… I can’t believe all of this took so long. But we are finally there.”

“We are,” Bram agrees. Although he would be unable to add ‘finally’.

“Listen, Bram… You probably know from my birthday that I am ready to marry you whether you get a brother or a sister. I understood that you are very old-fashioned and that you do not want to seem inappropriate before things are sure, but I was hoping that we could spend more time together. We do not have to be alone. We could even get a chaperone. I’m sure my brother would agree to chaperone a date between the two of us.”

Bram would rather impale himself on his own sword than do that.

“I am sure we could talk tonight at the banquet,” Bram says with a fake smile, avoiding the subject.

It seems to appease her however because she smiles back at him. “You know, for as long as I can remember, your name has been in the background of my life. I had a sister pretty early on, so… I grew up with the idea that I would become your wife someday. I know that since you have been an only child for so long, we never properly met or spent time together like other twin couples, but I have read everything about you. I know all about your family, your country, your achievements, every single one of your official appearances with your father… Even from afar, I have learned to care for you. We are going to have a perfect life.”

She seems so sure about every word she says that Bram feels terrible about being unable to return any of it. He never cared enough to look into her – and sadly her family – or anything she did the past eighteen years, he doesn’t want this wedding and didn’t even before knowing he was drawn to other men, and he knows that the best life he would give her would be a lie.

But he cannot tell her that she is delusional.

Instead, he thanks her for her kind words and takes his leave.

 

Alice doesn’t come to Bram during the banquet, but Simon does. Bram is still sitting at the main table, away from the crowd, away from the celebration which is mainly in his honor. Still. He is here. He didn’t go hide in his room, and he decides to be proud of that.

When Simon comes to sit next to him, though, his heart squeezes in an odd way, and he wonders if he shouldn’t have pretexted some late work to shy away from the entire evening.

“My sister sent me,” he explains. “She wants us to ‘become good friends’. But I can give you some space if you prefer.”

“Don’t be stupid. So… I guess now I know how you were so sure nobody would come to claim Simon Spier’s bed.” Bram only allowed himself to be this forward because between the distance and the music, no one could possibly hear them.

“Abraham Louis Greenfeld. I guess now I know what you were doing at my sister’s birthday.”

“We should have connected the dots much earlier, huh?”

“Maybe,” Simon agrees. “But Jacques and Blue were too great for reality. At least Blue was. You were a dream come true that I knew I couldn’t bring into my real life, so I never tried to make you real.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it’s only going to hurt in the future, but… Maybe the moments we shared were a chance for us to gather true happiness we can look back to when facing real life.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

Simon’s face gets very serious suddenly. “I can’t do that to my sister.”

“I know. We shouldn’t even have let things go so far. I mean… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know she was your sister, but I knew I was otherwise engaged.”

“Will you do it?”

“What? Marry her? I don’t really have a choice.”

“Even if the baby is a girl?”

Bram looks at Simon, at those incredible eyes he wished he could look into every day, and answers: “No, I won’t. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Why would it make you a bad person?”

“She seems to want it so badly. I just… I don’t feel any of that.

“You and my sister are not living the same reality. She is entering an arranged marriage. You are entering a forced marriage.”

“Maybe if one of us can find happiness it will be good enough.”

“By ‘one of us’, do you mean her or do you mean me?”

“I don’t know. Both? I could settle for Alice being happy through all of this. But I would gladly sacrifice everything to make you happy.”

“This won’t make me happy. Actually… I will come to the wedding because she’s my sister and because I have to for political reasons. But after that… I think I will go away for a while. Maybe ask to do an officer placement somewhere remote. I don’t think I can be there to witness any of it.”

“We might end up in different countries anyway.” It breaks Bram’s heart to know that the easiest path his life could take is the one ensuring that they won’t ever see the other one again.

Simon nods but doesn’t say anything.

“The baby might be a girl,” Bram says.

“We still wouldn’t be able to… It would be…”

“I know. But wouldn’t things be less painful if I weren’t married to your sister?”

“So the best outcome is the one where no one is happy?” What could Bram possibly reply to that? He’d like to cry, but he can’t. On the list of things he can’t do, this one is not the most important.

The music currently playing is haunting and Bram knows he will remember it forever. It’s the music that will forever be attached to the moment he had to let go of the happiness he could have gotten.

 

For two days, as their parents negotiate their future, Alice and Bram are spending time together. Always with a chaperone. Thankfully, Simon never has to take on that role.

Bram tells her all about the Sky Territories and she tells him all about the Grass Lands. Bram manages to convince himself that he is interested in what she is saying for his general knowledge and not because it is the place Jacques comes from – even in his head, he cannot refer to him as Simon, it is too painful, too doomed, too dangerous.

Alice tells him about what she wants in life and in this marriage, and this is exactly what Bram would want out of a marriage. Just not this one.

As Alice speaks of her family, Bram slowly understands where her blind faith in love comes from. Her father is an only child. His mother has a few sisters, but she is from the Sun Islands and they are not bound by any Oath there. She isn’t even from a ruling family anyway. They simply met when her father was traveling, fell in love and he brought her back to his country where they built a happy family. Alice says that her mother sometimes feels sad about having to leave her country and family behind, but that love made it all worth it. Those are the stories she grew up with and which nurtured the romanticized vision of Bram she made up. Bram didn’t grow up with such stories. He simply saw two people who had to share a life, tried to find common goals, got along alright, but never felt any love for each other. None that he could witness anyway.

Bram can’t help but think about Simon. How did these same stories mold his view of love and the world? How did it fit with the forbidden desires he has? Did they help shape Jacques in any way?

 

One evening, as Bram is going back to his room from a walk in the gardens with Alice, he hears voices coming from his father’s office. His parents are arguing about something. Bram stops to listen when he overhears his name.

“Bram will never go along with it,” his father says.

“I will make sure he does,” his mother replies. “He is a smart boy and he will understand. But then you need to do your part.”

“I will.”

“You need to sound surer. I will make sure that Bram marries Alice Spier regardless of the gender of the second baby and moves to the Grass Lands and, in exchange, you will make sure that your mistress’s crazy family stops threatening our son’s life.”

“I said I will take care of it. He’s my son too. Of course, I want him safe.”

“Then you should have made smarter decisions before.”

Bram doesn’t stay to listen to the rest of the fight. He is so stupid. How did he not realize what a sibling would mean? It wouldn’t just be her family, though. His father’s mistress is from the Sky Territories, so the coming baby will be one hundred percent from this country. People would support that, and they would want him or her to become one of the Prestigious Five. That can only happen if Bram is out of the picture. For instance, if he is taken on by a foreign family.

 

Bram is lying in his bed, unable to sleep. There was a way out. The baby might have been a girl. It doesn’t matter anymore. His life has been decided. He could still decide to refuse to marry Alice, but what for? He will have to marry a girl eventually and he might as well do it while it can keep him from being murdered.

Bram knows his mother and he knows how she plans on cornering him. By morning, Alice will be informed that Bram wants to marry her. She will talk to Alice even before talking to him.

Someone knocks on his door and Bram thinks that, maybe, he misjudged his mother. Maybe, she will talk to him before making the final decision after all.

But when Bram opens the door, it isn’t his mother. It’s Simon. He looks tired, sad, and a bit desperate. Bram immediately moves aside to let him in.

“Simon, are you alright?” he asks, closing the door.

“I… No.”

“What happened?”

“The negotiations ended. Did you know?” Bram shakes his head. He did not. Of course Simon’s family would discuss it. “You will marry Alice, without any gender condition, and you will come back with us to the Grass Lands. In three days.”

Apart from the ridiculously short time frame, it is pretty much everything Bram expected. “There we are, then.”

Simon nods. It takes him a few more seconds to say what he actually came here to say. “Alice is over the moon, of course. She kept saying how perfect you two were for each other, and how much she loved you, and… It got me really mad, you know? She doesn’t know you. She has no idea who you are. When she talks about you, she is describing this picture-perfect young officer that you might be on paper, but… there is no Blue in what she describes. Then she called you hers, and… I don’t know. I’m not sure if you’re mine. You probably aren’t. But you’re definitely not hers either.”

“Simon…”

“I know it’s ridiculous to be jealous. It’s not like you chose her, it’s not like you dismissed me either, but… She still gets you in the end. I would give anything to get you. And I also know I can’t and I have to let you go, but… I thought maybe we could say goodbye first.”

“Haven’t we done that at the banquet already?”

“I mean properly. I would like to kiss you one last time. I would like for Simon and Bram to share a kiss. Would you want that?”

How could Bram not want that? He simply looks at Simon. His gorgeous face, his outstanding eyes, his full lips… They slowly walk into each other’s personal space and, gently, carefully, their lips meet. It is even more prudent than their actual first kiss.

They both intended to share one kiss and part ways. But it’s almost like their lips are magnets, finding their way back together as soon as they detach them. Bram grabs Simon by the collar and Simon’s hands end up on his back and in his hair.

Bram isn’t sure where this is going. He is not sure he cares.

 

Just as Bram’s fingers find their own way under Simon's jacket, his door opens on Alice. Bram and Simon jump apart but it’s too late. Her face just turned grey. She _saw_.

Bram’s heart never beat so fast before. He is panicking. What is she going to do? Should he say something? “Alice…”

“How could you?” she says at the same time. But she is not talking to Bram, she is talking to her brother.

“Alice, this is not what you think.”

“This wasn’t you kissing my fiancé?”

“No.”

“No?”

Bram looks at Simon. His face is more determined than he ever saw, and his gaze is steady. How can he lie so blatantly after she saw it with her own eyes? “This was me kissing the boy I love one last time so you can then have him.”

“Love? What are you talking about? Wait… is he the officer you were telling me about? All this time, you were with my twin fiancé, rubbing it in my face?”

“No. I didn’t know who he was, you know that.”

“I can’t believe I supported you. I can’t believe I told you it was fine and you deserved to be happy. I guess people are right after all. This is a disease. You people are sick and amoral and…”

“SHUT UP!” Simon screams. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Bram is just unlucky. He could have been happy with Alice, but he is in love with someone else. He could have been happy with Simon, but their love is forbidden. He could have had a sister, but it doesn’t even matter. He could have just said goodbye to Simon, but Alice walked in. He could have trusted that Simon knew his sister well enough to sort this, but they weren’t even given the chance. Because their mothers walk in just as Simon shouts at his sister to be quiet.

“What on Earth is happening?” Mrs Spier asks. “Alice, you shouldn’t be here at this time before the contracts are signed, even with your brother as a chaperone.”

“Mother, he is doing no such thing. Simon was trying to seduce my fiancé.”

“Is that true?” Mrs Greenfeld asks Bram. Bram’s panic is not getting better, but Simon just was brave enough to stand up for them, taking the risk to face some serious consequences, maybe even prison. So he just has to do the same.

“No. I was trying to seduce him.”

Simon looks at Bram as if he doesn’t believe that he didn’t take the way out that was offered to him. Bram looks back at him. Maybe Bram and Simon were never real. Maybe Jacques and Blue are the only real thing about them, and they are finally coming out of the shadows.

“See? They are sick. I want them trialed.”

“Foolish girl,” Mrs Greenfeld hisses. “Do you want to start another war? Who are you demanding justice against a foreign prince in his own country? This isn’t the Grass Lands. Before the wedding, you are no one in the Sky Territories. Only your parents could make such a claim.”

Alice turns to her mother. “Mother, please.”

“I’ll handle it,” Mrs Spier promises. Now go back to your room and do not speak a word of this to anyone.”

“But Mother…”

“Just go. We’ll talk later about what you want.”

Alice hesitates, shoots one last disgusted look at the two boys, and leaves the room. Bram stands there, as straight as he can, in a military pose, waiting for the consequences of his behavior. He can physically feel the tension radiating from Simon’s body.

Their mothers exchange a knowing look.

“Okay, sit down you two.” Mrs Greenfeld says. Their mothers sit on the armchairs on one side of the room, so Simon and Bram have no choice but sit on Bram’s bed, side by side.

“Bram… I know you think I have been handling this situation without your best interest at heart, but… mothers always know.”

“Know what?”

“Everything, really. I know you don’t want to marry that girl and I know why. I’ve always known why. I came tonight to give you a choice.”

“A choice?”

“You cannot stay here. There is a price on your head, now.”

“I know.”

“You do? Great. Then you understand that you must leave. The first option was for you to marry Alice Spier. This is not on the table anymore. Besides, Mrs Spier agreed that she might not want her daughter to marry someone that would never truly love her.”

“You told her about me?”

“I did. Because I needed help from someone from the Sun Islands.”

“Why?”

“If you stay here, you might be killed. If you go to the Grass Lands after rejecting one of theirs – and that was before this situation where the two of you were so stupid – you would never have been able to make a quiet life for yourself. The Sun Islands, however, do not care about the Oath or twin marriages. They find them foolish, actually. There, you could have a life, a real life. Just not as a nobleman.”

“Wait… I could be free?”

“Yes. But no money and no title.”

“I…” Bram never cared about money and titles. He never cared about a stupid military career. “Will I ever be able to see you again?”

“Maybe. If I visit. But you wouldn’t be able to come back.”

Bram nods. “This is what I want.”

“It’s settled then. There is a boat that can smuggle you there. Mrs Spier arranged it. One of her sisters is a captain and she is sailing home tomorrow. It leaves at dawn. You will have to pack light and smart. This would be goodbye. It is a big decision, but you took away your other option.”

“I know. I… Mrs Spier, thank you. I am sorry if I hurt your daughter. This was never my intention.”

“I believe that. She will be fine. She will come to terms with the fact that she fell in love with an idea rather than a person. However… Simon, she will not forgive you. Not soon anyway. In her eyes, whether she could have Bram or not is irrelevant. You took her happiness away. She will ask for justice. Here or at home. And then… you could face prison or banishment. We could handle banishment, but I cannot do anything for you if you are sent to prison.”

“I know. I will talk to Alice, and…”

“No. Don’t make things worse. The two of you… is it serious?”

Simon looks at Bram and Bram smiles shyly at him. Simon answers exactly what Bram is thinking. “It would have been in another world.”

“Then there is option number three,” Mrs Spier says. “We could smuggle the two of you out. If I can convince Alice not to say anything, you will be able to come back. If she talks, the two of you will seem to have fled together and you will both be punished with banishment. You won’t ever be able to come back to any of our countries. But the Sky Islands are a nice place, believe me. You have family there. You don’t know them yet, but they will take care of you. Both of you if you decide to stay together. Plus, you could even travel somewhere else. See the world.”

“Mother, I…”

“This would just be goodbye. I would visit when I go back to my old home, maybe with Mrs Greenfeld, maybe with your father if he accepts the situation, surely with Nora… Perhaps with Alice, in a few years.”

Simon looks at Bram again. “Are we really doing this?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.”

Simon nods. “And listen… just because we have to do this together, it doesn’t mean we have to do this… _together_.”

“I want to do it together. It might be what I actually wanted when I asked you if we should leave.”

Simon looks like he might cry and if it weren’t for their two mothers, Bram would kiss him right now.

 

Bram and Simon make it to the boat just before sunrise. They hug their mothers tight and although Bram would love to stay and have a conversation with his mother, get to know the real her he just discovered, have their first real heart to heart conversation, he is also happy to jump into the unknown, terrified but finally free.

The journey is not that long to the Sun Islands. They should be there tomorrow morning.

Simon’s aunt is nice but very bossy. She doesn’t ask any question about why they need to leave but she makes them work on the deck. Bram is more than fine with that. His mother paid her generously (as well as giving Bram some money for once he will be across the sea), but Bram still wants to do his part. Give back.

At the end of the day, she tells them that they will have to share the cabin. She was only expecting one guest after all. They tell her it’s fine. They don’t tell her that they are actually grateful for it.

 

The cabin has two hammocks, but they end up sharing one.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into all this,” Bram whispers, warm in Simon’s arms.

“I’m not. How everything played out is extremely unfortunate, but… this is it. Freedom. Finally. Like we talked about on the roof. And… in bed…”

“Simon… Once we’re there… what happens?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure my aunt will take us to a family member who will shelter us for a while, and…”

“No, I mean… you and me.”

“Well… I don’t know much about the Sun Islands, even though I’m partly from there… shocking, I know. I guess it’s like everywhere else. We will have to hide. Pretend to be business partners, maybe. Or… whatever else.”

“But… you want to stay together.”

“Of course I want to stay together. I would have married you on that roof if I had a chance. And then… I have read those notes you wrote me a thousand times. I even took them with me. They are in my bag right now. I remember every word you said that night. After you left, I kept my pillowcase until it stopped smelling like you. When I close my eyes, I remember how your body feels under my fingers. You and I… it wasn’t just convenience. I know you feel it too. You and I… we are going to be so happy. You believe that, don’t you?”

“Your notes are in my bag too,” Bram replies as if it was enough for Simon to know how he feels. Apparently it is because Simon kisses him. This time, it almost doesn’t feel forbidden.

“What will we do there?” Bram asks.

“We could still join the military,” Simon says. “We have the training.”

“Please, no. Anything but. We could be farmers. Get some land and turn it into something nice.”

“We could get some land, turn it into something nice and still not become farmers. I could see you work at the Great Library.”

“I was meant to be a Prestigious Five. I went to military school, not the university.”

“So? Do it now. Reinvent yourself. Isn’t it what this is all about?”

“Fine. I will go to university and do something I love. What will you do? Join the National Theater?”

“I would love that. Or maybe something in trade. Just be able to talk to different people all day. Options are limitless.”

Bram smiles. True. All they have are options. For the first time since he can remember, there is no unpleasant knot in his stomach. A knot he didn’t realize was there until it disappeared.

 

Then get up before the rest of the crew. They can’t take the risk being found together like that.

They work again on the deck that morning. Then they arrive to the Sun Islands and they are even more beautiful than Bram read. They help the ship berth, they unload the goods and the crew is finally dismissed.

Bram and Simon follow his aunt back on the ship to get their belongings.

“Alright, you boys don’t have to call me ‘Captain’ anymore. I’m Maria. You will be staying with my wife and me until you figure out something better. I had planned for just one, but we’ll squeeze two. Besides, you’re family, Blondie.”

Bram is moved by her kindness. “Thank you, that’s very gener…” Then it hits him. “Your _wife_?”

She winks at him with a knowing smile. “You boys will _love_ the Sun Islands.”

 

 


	39. What if they met in conversion therapy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After coming out to his family, Simon is sent to Salvation Camp to get conversion therapy.  
> Even before putting one foot in there, he decides that he won't stay. even if he has to lie his way out.  
> He is sure that nothing good can come from this place. Although... maybe friendship? Maybe love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is a bit OOC in this one.
> 
> And, again, it's just a short story, so the evolution of events seems a bit quick and maybe forced sometimes. But I don't really feel like doing research and write a full story on conversion therapy...
> 
> I promise the next chapter will have a much more cheerful setting!

“It’s just two weeks,” my mother says. “It will fly by. It’s just to try, remember?”

I nod. I do remember. I remember every single word in that conversation. I don’t really want to think about it any further. Two weeks. That was the deal. I am going to stay here for fourteen days and then I can go home.

Unless… No. I cannot think about the unless.

We enter the main building – the only one which isn’t white or grey – and are greeted by a very smart-looking lady. Everything in her screamed ‘feminine’ and I can’t help but think that it was probably why she got the job.

“Hello. My name is Heather, how can I help you?”

“I am Emily Spier. This is my son Simon. We have an appointment for… Simon is…”

“Oh, of course! Simon is joining us today!” Heather seems genuinely over the moon that ‘Simon is joining them today’. That’s when I decide that I hate her, I hate this place, and I hate my mom for leaving me here.

Heather gives us a tour of the facilities, and I swear hospitals look like more fun. We get to talk to other teenagers here and I can’t tell if they are better lying to the staff or themselves, and finally, Emily signs a bunch of documents granting them custody of me for fourteen days – renewable. Every stroke of her pen on the paper feels like a stab in my chest.

All of this because of fucking Blue.

 

Although Blue was a big part of why this was happening, I still can’t hate him. He is the only person in this entire story that I cannot hate.

Blue is this boy that I met online. We emailed for months, both struggling with our homosexuality, finding comfort in each other and slowly realizing that being gay was not all we had in common. I obviously cannot speak for Blue, but I definitely fell in love with the boy on the other side of the screen.

I was working up the courage to ask if we could meet. For real. No screens, no aliases, no nothing. Just the two of us in the same place. It didn’t have to be romantic – although I would have died for that – I just wanted to live in a world where Blue was a tangible part of my reality.

Things didn’t play out like that, though. One morning, I woke up to an email from Blue telling me that he couldn’t do this anymore and that he was deleting his email.

Nothing more. One line that entirely crushed my heart.

The worst part being: I understood.

That same evening, I made the stupidest decision of my life. And there I am. About to be “freed from sin and perversion” or “find his way back from a path of confusion” depending on who told me why I was coming here.

I enter this place completely sure that there is nothing wrong with me and that these people are in the wrong. I am nonetheless terrified that they will successfully brainwash me.

 

I am shown to a room that I will share with three other boys. I haven’t met them yet, but it’s a matter of minutes now. As soon as they are done with ‘art therapy’ – and I am worried that it won’t be as harmless as it sounds – they will come introduce themselves and take me to lunch.

Food. I can do food. There can’t be anything trying to change who I am in the food, right?

I take a deep breath. I cannot start being paranoid now. This place might not be as bad as I fear. They might genuinely try to help me and will let it go when they realize that I am not confused but truly gay, and that I don’t want to change that about me. Mainly because I don’t think it can be changed.

I try to distract himself by looking around the room. The beds are very basic and are all militarily made. Every bed has the same type of things taped to the wall. Family pictures – I was instructed to bring some too. Something that looks like an A3 vision board – loads of happy straight families on there. A “mood and progress chart” that looks infantilizing and depressing. From the charts, though, I can tell that Mystery Boy Number one has been here for a month. Mystery boy Number three has been here for three months. Mystery Boy Number Three has been here for six, but there is a two months gap in the middle.

This terrifies me. Will they really let me go after two weeks? Or is it just what they told me so I wouldn’t fight coming here? Do I have to be straight to get out of here? Can I lie well enough to get through this?

 

Five minutes later, as I am debating whether I should unpack or not, three boys do come in. They introduce themselves. In order of Mystery Boys: Bram, Cal, and Joshua. I notice that they skilfully avoid mentioning anything to do with where we are, why we are here, or how they feel about it. I follow their lead. It’s for the best anyway. No trust. Much better than fake trust.

They give me a tour of the place, which is pretty much the one Heather gave us earlier. It’s really sad, in a way. Where are their personalities? Why do teenagers sound so rehearsed? The answer is obvious. It’s better not to be oneself, here.

The food is like everything else here: bland and processed.

 

After lunch, I am taken to the Reverend for a chat. I don’t know what I expected, but not that tall man with a warm and happy smile. For a second, I have to remind myself that he is the enemy. That no matter how nice he is, and although it would be stupid to openly lie, the one thing that I cannot give him is the truth.

“Hello, Simon! I am sorry that I couldn’t come to see you earlier, but I had a busy morning. How have things been so far?”

“Good, thanks,” I reply, sitting on the other side of the desk.

“Perfect. So… we are just going to have an informal conversation. To talk about what you are here and what you are hoping to get from your stay here.” I nod but I let the Reverend carry on. “In the email and phone call that we had with your parents, they said that you are having some homosexual thoughts.”

That’s putting things mildly, but I don’t want to make things worse for myself, so I just reply: “That’s right.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Hum… I’m here.”

The Reverend nods briefly. “Yes, but I understand that it was your parents’ decision.”

“It was a family decision.” That’s technically true. They just didn’t include me in the decision-making process.

“Good, I’m happy that you are active in your recovery process. So, tell me, Simon, what are you hoping to achieve from your stay with us?”

Nothing. But saying that would be idiotic, so instead, I tell him the closest thing to the truth: “I want to be accepted by my family again.”

The Reverend seems really pleased with that answer. “Family. That is the key thing in life, Simon. And we are going to work toward that goal. Bring unity to your current family and work toward you getting a family in the future.”

I am not sure if I want a family in the future, but I also know that being gay doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t be able to get one. “That sounds great.”

“We are going to spend the next fourteen days working on your profile and setting goals for the future, then we will discuss it further with your parents, alright?”

I nod again. I cannot speak right now. That deadline terrifies me. How can I make them decide that I can go home after fourteen days when the boys in my room have been here for months?

 

After our interview, I am introduced to Leah. She is supposed to help me do my vision board, using a collection of pictures they provided. I like her immediately although I am not sure why. It might be because I can see the real her behind her fake answers.

After half an hour, I ask her “Why are you doing this with me?”

“Because they told me to.” That was cheekily honest of her.

“Okay, but what did they ask you?”

“They think it’s better for you to decide what you want your aspirations to be without being prompted by them. Yet. And they usually pair you with a success story.”

“That’s you?”

“That’s me.”

I am suddenly very disappointed in her. Which is stupid because I shouldn’t have put any hopes or expectations in her in the first place.

I end up with a vision board covered in cliched pictures. A suburban house. A ‘typical family’ with a mom, a dad, a son, and a daughter. A dog. A kitten. A city skyline. A fancy university. Emma Watson talking at the UN. The Italian flag. The London Eye. The Eiffel Tower.

Apart from the dog, and maybe traveling, there is nothing on there that I truly envision in my future. But that seemed harmless and in line with what they would want me to choose for my future, right?

“Do you think it’s done?” I ask Leah.

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll make you keep adding or taking out stuff. But… yeah, it looks fine. Well done.”

“Well done?”

“You understood them quite well. Nice touch with Emma Watson. She can be your lifeline.”

“My what?”

“Your lifeline. To them, she’ll be the open door to normality. That girl will be what links you to being straight and they will use it to overshine any ‘un-pure thought’. Hence the lifeline.”

Okay… maybe she isn’t a disappointment after all. Maybe she is a ‘success story’ because she played the game really well.

And indeed, when someone came to check on their progress, her attitude subtly changed. No defiance, no over the top ass-kissing either. She is just the perfect happy image of someone who wants to share her tips for being healthy and happy. It’s almost scary.

I am congratulated for my ‘tasteful’ vision board and I can feel Leah’s eyes on me. ‘ _See?’_ She seems to try to tell me. _‘It’s that easy’_.

I think I can fake the person they want to see. Hopefully convincingly so. I don’t think I could be him, however.

 

I am in ‘my’ room, putting my own display up, currently just family pictures and my vision board. I don’t have a mood chart yet.

That’s when Bram walks into the room.

“Hi,” he tells me.

“Hi.” It’s awkward. I don’t know how to start a conversation and, apparently, neither does he. So I go for the safest choice although I already know the answer. “How long have you been here?”

“Just over a month.”

“And… how has it been?”

“Fine.” We look at each other and I don’t know what he sees in me, but he opens up a little. “It’s been… challenging. Obviously.

“Why, ‘obviously’?”

Bram frowns and I feel like I’m missing an important piece of information. Something about him that other people here would know. “Isn’t it for everyone?” I know he dodged the question but I don’t want to push or pry. Something tells me it would be especially unwelcome here.

“I’m not sure. It’s my first day.”

“And you don’t want to be here,” Bram comments. It’s not a question, it’s not a judgment, it simply is a statement.

“Do you?”

Bram shrugs. “I don’t want to be here, but I chose to be.”

“Why?” The question escaped my lips before I could stop it. But I have to know. Why would anyone _choose_ to be here?

“I have been struggling with who I am for a while now. I couldn’t tell anyone. Well… I told someone. And I thought things would get better. That this could be who I am. But my family is… very conservative. I knew if I told them, they would send me to a place like this. In the end, it was the obvious choice. I could lose my family for a difficult future where I would never truly be accepted, simple for… _sexual impulses_ … or I could agree to come here and let them make me better.”

“Why would straight be better than gay?”

“Don’t say that out of this room,” he warns me. “Not if you want to be gone in fourteen days. But to answer your question… I don’t think that straight is better than gay, but society does. I want to choose that.”

“I don’t think that’s a choice,” I say with a soft voice.

“It has to be,” he whispers back.

He pains me. All I can see is a confused boy that this place is confusing even further. How much of himself is he ready to suppress for his family? And could he be right? Is making his family happy worth becoming a repressed homosexual?

I snap out of it when Cal and Joshua walk into the room. One day. It took me less than a day to start questioning myself.

We have dinner sitting with the people from our rooms. From the forced conversation and awkward silences, I gather that they don’t like each other that much. Fine. I’m not here to make friends.

 

The next day, I get my chart. Every day, I am supposed to record how I feel, and if I had any _‘unwelcomed thought’_. I really wanted to reply that no thought involving abs or sporty calves are unwelcome, but I thought it would be better to keep that to myself.

I can’t be too obvious straight away, so for my first entry, I put ‘nervous’ and ‘three bad thoughts’. I am creating a boy that needs a bit of work, but whose recovery is within reach. The psychologist (who uses that title but doesn’t display any real degree) loves that version of me, apparently. She talks to me about how teenage years can be confusing, on how sometimes we transfer our fantasies on the wrong things because we don’t actually know what we want, then she ‘guides me’ through defining what a family should be and about the procreative function of sex. Then she talks about Jesus for a while.

I am not convinced that Jesus cares that much who touched my junk, but if I tell her that, I will be stuck here for a year, right?

 

At lunch, you don’t have to sit with your room, so Leah decides to sit next to me. “Hey, Simon. Friday evenings are bonfire nights. Do you want to join me and Cal?”

“Sure. I didn’t know you two were friends.”

Just as the Reverend walks by, Leah lets out a happy laugh. “Cal and I are not friends. He was my revelation. He and I are an item.”

 _Oh_. Really? I am burning to ask if they are a real item or not, but I obviously don’t. “Good for you!”

“I encourage you to mingle as much as you can. Emma Watson is a pretty girl, and a strong woman figure, but it’s better to get a real lifeline. Someone that can be there for you every day and show you what life can be!”

If that’s just in case the Reverend would listen, she is _really_ good. If not, she’s insane.

 

I won’t lie: I am surprised by bonfire night. There is a large fire with the staff where everyone can go and share jokes, anecdotes, play music… But the garden is _very_ big and smaller fires are scattered everywhere, far enough from one another to have a conversation without being heard. I truly didn’t expect any kind of privacy.

I sit down next to Leah and Cal. Her back is on his chest, his arm is around her, their legs are stretched out and they do look like a genuine couple hanging out at a bonfire.

“When she told me she invited you, I didn’t think you would join us,” Cal comments.

“Why not?”

“Because we exchanged ten words since you arrived.”

“Yeah, well, your dorm isn’t the warmest one,” Leah comments and Cal lets out an agreeing sound.

“So the two of you…” I start, not knowing how to finish this.

“No,” Leah replies after glancing around to make sure that no one is close enough to hear.

“What?”

“Cal and I are not a thing.”

“Oh.”

“I have that feeling that I can trust you and you’re one of us more than one of them,” she continues. “If I am wrong and you plan on telling anyone, however, I will cut you’re your balls during the night and make you eat them at breakfast.”

She is scary. But I get it.

“Don’t worry. I’m on your side. So… you’re each other’s beard?”

“Sort of,” Cal admits.

“So all I have to do is find a girl and fake it with her?”

“You can try, but I got lucky with her. You truly are my lifeline,” he tells her and Leah snorts.

“See, we’re here for different reasons. Cal’s parents are using it as a summer camp while they’re on vacation in Thailand because they found him kissing a boy, but I don’t think they care that much how he comes back to them. I wrote a love letter to a girl in school and she posted it on Instagram.”

“That bitch,” Cal punctuates.

“Amen. Anyway, my mom sent me here to ‘cleanse my soul’,” she air-quotes that. “The thing is, Cal and I are bi and I have never actually been with a girl before. Plus Cal sold really well the whole ‘I am so ashamed by my actions thing’. Then we became friends, for real, and we were able to sell the ‘slowly falling in love’ part.”

“So… you’re leaving then?”

“My parents collect me in eight days,” Cal confirms. “I’m pretty sure they would have done it regardless, but I’m not going to test that theory. This place is giving me depression.”

“And you?” I ask Leah.

“My mum is going to talk to the Reverend in a week or so. I think she will agree for me to go back home after my ‘intensive treatment’ is over. After that, she will probably have me come back for ‘check-ups’.”

“They can do that?”

“Definitely,” Cal replies. “This place is _packed_ during the weekends. You’ll see.”

“My mom pretty much gave me a choice between coming here or getting an exorcism,” Leah carries on. “I’m still not sure I chose wisely.”

“So… how is that going to work when Cal is gone, then?”

“I will keep faking being her boyfriend,” he answers. “Until we’re both sure we’re in the clear. Maybe until college. We made a pact. We won’t let the other one coming here, and we _will not_ be the reason why that happens.”

“That’s really nice of you. The two of you.”

“If this place wouldn’t crucify us for even considering it, I would totally tell them that I’m actually a bigamist and do it for you too,” Leah promises me and, for the first time since I came here, I laugh.

“Thanks. But I should be fine. I’m just here for fourteen days.” Cal and Leah exchange a look that I don’t like. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… A lot of people here came ‘for fourteen days’ and they’ve been here longer than me. Some of them are not even gay, they’re just a bit feminine looking. But they will have to stay until ‘they find the balance’.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Basically, they tell you that if you are gay – or might turn out to have homosexual tendencies in the future, it’s because you don’t have the right balance of masculine and feminine. Me, for instance, I do drama. To them, that’s a cheek thing, so I have to add masculine activities into my life to ensure that I don’t compensate with sexual tendencies. According to the psychologist – if we can call her that, she always talks and never listens – it’s easier for me because I’m bi. I only need to do half of the work. But then you have kids like Bram Greenfeld who is a soccer star, and they say that he has ‘too much masculinity’ in his life and that’s confusing him…”

“It sounds made up,” I comment.

“It’s all bullshit,” Cal agrees.

“Wait… did you say Bram _Greenfeld_?”

“Yep.”

“As in _Reverend Greenfeld_?”

“Oh, yeah. Daddy’s boy turned out gay. How funny is that?”

“Cal, be nice,” Leah tells him. “It must be hard to be in his shoes. He’s the only one that will _never_ leave this place. Even when he goes home, he’ll still be in here to some level.”

“So… wait… Bram has just been here for a month,” I recall.

“Yeah. Can you imagine how awful it was to realize you were gay in a family that made a name creating the ‘Salvation Camps’ and was basically becoming a brand? I mean… his dad is practically a guru.”

“His coming out must have been awkward,” Leah says.

“Do you think his parents gave him a choice?” I ask and they look at me like I’m stupid. Then again, Bram wouldn’t have come out to them if he wasn’t ready – or willing – to come here. Surely, he knew what was coming.

What was it like to have been raised like that? To have had to choose between being yourself or what you’ve been told your entire life? I feel like I understand him a bit better. I finally get what that thing at the back of his eyes was. He is desperate.

“What’s the deal with Joshua?” I ask to change the subject. “Why does he have a gap in his chart?”

Cal and Leah aren’t looking at me. They aren’t looking at each other, either. They are staring at the fire. Cal is the one who finally answers and I wish he hadn’t. “He was in the ER and then a psych ward for trying to kill himself.”

“Seriously?”

Leah nods, face still blank. “You will hear the story. They use what happened to him as the biggest proof that being gay is the worst thing that could happen to him. His family bullies him, his dad literally tried to beat the gayness out of him, this place bullies him further… his parents are obviously ready to do whatever this place will ask them, so he is taking all kinds of pills and is used as a trial base for a lot of different therapies. It’s all legal, sure, but some of them sound creepy… And then he does _that_ and when he left the hospital, he didn’t even spend a day at home. He was sent back right here where they explained to him – _and us_ – that being gay made him sick, weak, and that once he is cured of the first one, he will be cured of all the others and finally be happy.”

“That sounds crazy,” I comment.

“They phrase it really well,” Cal replies. “You can get people to agree to a lot of shit if you put nice words on it. You’ll see. They’ll make you doubt yourself once or twice.”

“If they wanted to make me doubt myself, they shouldn’t cut me from the world and share my time with three gay boys.”

“Not gay,” Cal replies softly. It’s almost semantics, but I can only respect his desire to still be identified properly in such a place. “But I see your point. Have you seen Bram without a shirt yet? It’s going to make the ‘impure thoughts’ on your chart go through the roof!”

And because my mind _has to go there_ , I am now picturing Bram Greenfeld shirtless. Not that I will share that on my chart.

 

Every day is a series of ridiculous activities. Arts and crafts. Therapy sessions. Movies. Documentaries. Cooking. Sport – OMG, so much sport. Creative writing (it’s pretty much them giving us a homosexually charged starting point and making us turn it straight and happy. Preferably through prayer). Gardening. Cleaning. Role plays (not the kinky kind)…

It’s like camp but everything is hazardous instead of fun.

Thankfully, I have Leah to go through all of this.

 

Two days later, I am sitting in the middle of circle time. I have to share with everyone why I am here. I know I will have to share my coming out as my parents definitely shared that in my application form, but I don’t know how much more I have to share.

I decide to talk about Blue. His email address doesn’t exist anymore, so it’s not like they could find him, but also… if I tell them that I was gay because I had feelings for a boy online, I am sure that I can later build the case that I was attracted to someone that doesn’t exist and that if we had met, I wouldn’t have felt any real attraction. That, actually, I only ever had girlfriends, and that I just haven’t met anyone I could truly bond with hence the misplaced coming out.

I am sure – I hope – that the people here believe in what they say and that they are not just here to torture us. In which case, it will make sense to them, right?

I sort of feel shitty for throwing Blue under the bus, but he is the one that left, broke my heart, and started this entire mess.

Besides, he’ll never know.

“Hi, guys. I met most of you, but… I’m Simon…” I can only do this by looking at Leah or Cal. If I focus on them, it will be fine. I can share that story with them. All I have to do is pretend that the rest of the world doesn’t exist. They were real with me at the bonfire, the least I can do is be real back. “I had a few girlfriends in the past. It felt natural. I just assumed that my next relationship would be a girl. But then I met this incredible person online. He was fun, charming, smart, struggling with his identity, and… one day, he just… ended things. Just when I was coming to terms with the idea that I was falling in love with a boy. I was upset and confused so I… came out. To my entire family. And I mean… the _whole_ thing. My sisters, my parents, my aunts, my grandma… It was her birthday. She… did not take it well. We had a big family conversation and it was decided that I should come here. Try it out. Get that… one virtual relationship out of my system… So… yeah… that’s my story…”

Minus all the sex dreams I had about Harry Potter, the fact that my girlfriends always left me quite indifferent, but dreaming about Blue’s lips and hands drove me crazy, or that I _finally_ saw Bram Greenfeld shirtless and that I will _never_ forget that.

I don’t tell them that realizing I was gay felt like an evidence and that I don’t believe for one minute in the life they are trying to sell to me. That every ‘success’ they achieve will either end in a lie or a life of unhappiness.

 

Things go really crazy after dinner.

I could feel Bram’s eyes on my face the entire time. I couldn’t read the expression on his face and it really annoyed me. It also made me very nervous. Could he see through my bullshit? Is he going to tell his dad?

Which is why I was so on edge when I go back to the room after hanging out in Leah’s room only to find Bram alone in there. When he sees me, his face does this weird thing that I don’t understand. It’s fine. He’s probably just upset about… something. I just need to play it cool.

“Hi, Bram.”

“When was it?”

“When was what?”

“Your coming out.”

“Uhm… Like a month ago.” For some reason I don’t get, that answer seems to properly overwhelm Bram. “Are you alright?”

“A month ago… I told my parents that I thought I might be having feelings for a boy. I understood that it meant I would come here. Or be sent to one of my father’s colleagues. It’s a decision that I didn’t make lightly. Partly because of that other boy. I wasn’t even able to tell him properly. I couldn’t express a thought process I hadn’t completed yet. So I ended thing with a cowardly email and I deleted my account.”

Coincidences like this _do not_ happen in real life. Bram, the son of the founder of a conversion therapy camp that I happen to have been sent to, had an online boyfriend that he broke up with via an email a month ago. It feels close to home. Yet, he can’t be… “Blue?”

Bram’s eyes fill up with tears and I am almost having an out of body experience.

Blue is here. Blue is real.

Blue is trying to silence the gay part in him.

I need to say something. Right now. Before…

Joshua enters the room and the moment is gone. Bram and I put our masks back on.

 

There is nothing I ever wanted – or needed – more than a moment alone with Bram. And yet, things keep coming to ensure that we are never free at the same time, or that someone is with us.

We need to have that chat soon, because Cal asks me as we are walking to Bible study: “Why are you and Bram giving each other looks?”

“What? No, we’re not.”

“You totally are. And you should chill before _someone that’s not me or L_ notices. Plus… I know he’s hot, but seriously… get a crush on someone who’s not the Rev’s son. Friendly advice.”

That might be the best advice anyone ever gave me. And I could totally follow it if it weren’t for months of perfect emails that ended up being wrapped in a perfect body.

I have already made my decision. I am going to change Bram’s mind. I will show him that what we can have is so much more beautiful than the fake future they want us to build for ourselves.

In six days.

Our bond is strong enough for that. I know it. I have to believe that.

 

Cal leaves the next day. His parents are very nonchalant about the entire thing. I thought they were exaggerating when he and Leah told me that his parents treated this like a summer camp, but I think they might be right. Do his parents really not realize the damage this could have done to him? Actually… don’t they see the damage it did to him? I can’t believe that he is walking out of here as happy as he used to be.

As I say goodbye to Cal, I try to remember his cute bang, his charming ocean eyes, his soft smile, and for a second, I wish we could have met in different circumstances.

“I really hope you won’t be here next time I visit Leah,” he tells me.

“Me too!”

“But I also hope we can see each other again in the real world. Wouldn’t a double date be fun? Me and my precious girlfriend, you and whoever ends up being your lifeline.”

I chuckle. “That sounds perfect.”

 

Leah is trying really hard not to show it, but I can see that things have been more difficult for her since Cal left. I try to be there for her, but I know it’s not the same. I know what it’s like to lose the one person you could always be real with and who knew you better than anyone.

I need to talk to Bram.

Today.

 

After lunch, I go to our room, hoping to find Bram. Instead, I find Joshua.

“Hey. Aren’t you at therapy?”

“No. Yes. Sort of. Once a month, I have to go to the hospital. Check up with their therapist.”

“You don’t sound too pleased.” If I had a chance to talk to a _real_ therapist, I would seize it immediately. Make them take me out of this place. Especially if I were in Joshua’s situation.

“They are confusing me.” Something tells me that he did not come up with those words. “They keep telling me that I should embrace who I am if I want to overcome my depression, but they don’t understand that what they think I should embrace is nothing but a side effect of that depression and it just makes it worse.”

I cannot help Joshua. Objectively, if he had been brainwashed by his family and this place enough that he won’t listen to psychiatrists, then I have no chance. I should nod and let it go. Instead, I say: “Has it ever occurred to you that you might have tried to kill yourself because of the pressure your family is putting on you more than because you are gay?”

“I am not gay.”

“Fine. Than because of the ‘parasitic thoughts you have at the moment’, then.”

“Right now, they aren’t two different things. The two things are linked, and I just know how to fix one of them.”

“What if you realize it can’t be fixed?”

Joshua seems terrified for a second and I almost want to take the words back. Almost. Because the hard questions need to be asked, preferably by someone who cares.

“I have to change. I just have to. I need God to love me again.”

“I don’t think God stopped loving you.” I am not much of a religious person, but the part of me that believes cannot believe in a God that would love you less because of who you love or because you are in hardship.

“God tested me and I failed Then I tried to commit the biggest sin. I need this place to offer me salvation. You get that, right?” He seems desperate. For his salvation and for my approval. I know I will regret settling, but for now, I just nod. There is no need to push Joshua too far either.

Bram comes in and tells Joshua that his cab is here. Joshua seems to be relieved to be allowed to get away from me and Bram seems to be nervous to be left alone with me. Am I poison?

 

The door closes behind Joshua and I know that it is now or never. I have to talk to Bram. Now. Find the Blue that’s hidden inside of him.

“Bram…”

My heart skips what feels like a hundred beats when Bram grabs my shirt, pulls me close and kisses me. As his lips move against mine, I forget everything about the last ten days, about where we are, about my family that might make me stay here… Instead, all of Blue’s perfect words are dancing in my head.

This. Right now. This is me.

And yes, sure, they have a point. Everything would be so much easier if I could just be straight. But I am not. And I am not ready to lie to myself hard enough to morph into something I am not just because it would make others happy.

I don’t think it would make me happy. No as happy as the dance of Bram’s lips on mine anyway.

We jump apart when we hear steps in the corridor. Seconds later, Leah walks in. Time for modeling clay workshop.

I follow her without even a look toward Bram. I think if I looked at him right now, my face would just turn crimson.

“Did Cal have a point when he said that you had a crush on BG?”

“No.” She doesn’t believe me but it doesn’t matter. Now that Blue is real, I cannot talk bout him anymore. Not even halfway.

 

At dinner, Joshua is still not back. Therefore, Bram and I are alone at our table.

He isn’t looking at me. But it’s not like it had been since we found out. It’s more… _shame_.

“Bram?”

“What?”

“Can you look at me?”

He slowly, as if it took an incredible amount of effort, moves his eyes until they meet mine.

“Look, about earlier…” he looks panicked, as if I were stupid enough to shout out details in the dining hall. “I know we can’t do that again. Not here. But…”

“But nothing.” I do not like his tone. “Simon, I was weak, and I am sorry. But I am going to finish the program.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not very hard to understand.”

“Bram, don’t do this. It’s wrong and you know it.”

“What’s wrong with wanting an easier life? With wanting to be like everyone else? If they can do that for me, I want to try. If I can choose, I choose to be normal.”

‘Easy’, ‘choice’, ‘normal’… All the words that have been drilled since I arrived. That’s how they do it. They don’t brainwash teenagers by telling them that they are wrong or full of sin. Although that’s working on Joshua. They show them another future of happiness, success and free of shame and doubt. It works on some. It’s working on Bram.

I don’t want to believe that. Not every straight person is happy, successful and proud. Not every gay person is unhappy or perverted. What is perverted anyway? I would rather be the kind of person that has a lot of disinhibited sex than one who bullies teenagers.

But I can’t argue that here and now with him.

 

After lunch, we go to our room. I already know that I want to beg him to love me and he wants to say goodbye. If I could, I think I would skip that part of my life and just move to the resolution. See who won. Especially if that ends with Blue’s lips on my skin.

“Bram… you don’t have to go through with this.”

“Of course, I do.”

“In the emails, you said…”

“Forget about the damn emails! They were childish, selfish thoughts. Yes, I did want you. I also wanted to be Batman when I was eight. I wanted it probably even more than I wanted you. That doesn’t make me Batman. The reality is: Batman isn’t real. It’s the same thing here. I would love to be gay and with you, but that’s a perverted fantasy. And one of us has to stop it so we can both come back to reality.”

“You don’t believe that!”

“But I do.”

“What happened between us… you felt it too, I know it!”

“It doesn’t matter! Don’t you understand? Simon… I am sorry if I led you on. I am sorry if I was weak… I just couldn’t resist, you know? But we can’t… you understand that, don’t you? We can’t…”

He looks like he’s about to leave the room, so I grab his wrist. This can’t be it. This can’t be how I lose Blue. “Bram, wait. Please, just wait. Stay with me just a while longer.”

“Why? I’m sorry Simon, but I can’t lose my entire family over you.”

“I know. I understand that. I truly do. But…  what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you ready to lose _you_ for your family?”

Bram looks like he’s on the verge of crying. It is probably not a new feeling for him. I want to hold Bram tight, tell him that everything is going to be okay, that we will figure it out together, that there is nothing wrong with him, and that his family will eventually understand. But I don’t know how much of that is the truth. What I do know, it that I am not allowed to touch Bram anymore. As painful as it is, we both made their choice. Simply different choices.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I really can’t.”

“I’m sorry too,” I whisper. In this instant, I am not sorry for me or for our missed relationship. Right now, I feel sorry for Bram. I even pity him a bit.

The great Blue. Nothing but a scared little boy.

“I hope that one day, you wake up and you feel ready to be free. When you do… my email address will still be there. Waiting for you. In the meantime… I can’t do this either.”

“I am going to ask to change rooms.”

“What?”

“Simon… I can’t be around you.”

“But you can’t… Bram, I’ll be gone in four days.”

“What if you’re not?”

“I definitely won’t if you change rooms…”

“I won’t tell them why.”

“Oh come on… they will put two and two together…”

“As I said… I can’t put you over my recovery. I’m very sorry.”

And he leaves the room. This hurts more than anything else. Much, much more than him deleting his email.

Blue rejected me.

Blue refused to even be my friend.

Blue refused to protect me.

Is he even Blue? What in Bram is left of the boy I fell in love with? Was he ever that boy? Did his family and this place destroy him?

And even if a small part of me hates him right now, the biggest part can’t help but wonder: if I keep my email open, will he reach out to me one day? Can I save him? I Jacques enough to bring Blue back?

That tiny hope is the only thing preventing me from falling apart right now.

 

Leah and I don’t talk about Bram. We also don’t talk about what might happen when my parents come back.

Instead, we make plans for when we’re out. Plans that will most likely never unfold.

It’s still nice to dream. Especially about being somewhere else.

 

Day fourteen arrives and my parents come back. Both of them. I think it would have been easier if it had been just my mom. She was the one that seemed the least please about sending me here. I remember the time between my coming out and coming here, how my dad was barely talking to me, looking at me like I was this stranger that suddenly took over his son’s body… How can I believe that that person is going to welcome me back into his home?

I look at my bag. It’s made. Not because I am that confident, just because I never actually unpacked. As if refusing that this was my new reality could impact things.

My parents talk to the Reverend and the psychologist first. I can’t imagine things going my way in there. But I can’t lose hope right now. I’ll lose hope when hope is dead and not a second before.

Just like I’m still hoping Bram will come around.

 

When I can finally join the meeting, I immediately want to make the shrink swallow back her fake smile.

My mom and dad smile at me but I don’t feel like I can smile back. Not until I know what they decided for me. I don’t sit with them on the couch, I sit in another armchair.

“Simon, here what we discussed with your parents,” the Reverend starts with a patronizing look that I find ominous. “We told them that given your history and the nature and frequency of your parasitic thoughts, we could expect some quick progress. You would have to miss the beginning of school, but you still might be able to catch up on your senior year. And even if you were to repeat your year, it would be on a much stronger basis. We were pleased to tell them about your interest in female celebrities and how you created a seemingly real friendship with one of our strongest success stories. However, we also had to share that you appeared to not commit yourself seriously to the program at times. You haven’t unpacked your suitcase and we know an even occurred between you and another boy although the nature of what happened there is still uncertain. Therefore, our recommendation is for you to stay with us a while longer. You should finish the summer with us and then maybe just be a weekend boarder as school starts. It would be an especially good idea as you will be in contact with young boys your own age there and some impulses might come back.”

This is stupid. Whether we talk about Blue or Harry Potter, boys I was in contact with never were the main issue, were they?

My mother looks at me and says: “What do you think, darling?”

I could keep lying, finish the summer here, suck up a couple of weekends and be done with it. I’ll probably see Leah during those weekends and things wouldn’t be so bad.

Or I could risk everything and tell the truth. I understand that I might end up being a Joshua, testing new medicine and new therapies and end up opening my wrists in the shower… But I am me, I am still me, and I need my parents to see me, even if it’s just this once.

“I am gay,” I reply. “I don’t have homosexual impulses, or parasitic thoughts about boys, I am gay. I don’t believe that can be changed. And sure, you could lock me up here and they might wear me down enough that I will end up dating women, but… that will be a lie. Not one that would make me happier than the truth. Because here is the truth: I would rather live a life with a man and having to fight for equal rights, than be with a woman I cannot truly love just because someone decided it is better for me. And this place… this place is not helping me. It’s not helping anyone, really. I don’t want to be told every day that I should be ashamed of myself and that what I am thinking is wrong. Just like I don’t want to go home and have grandma tell me that I will go to hell and bring my sisters down with me. I… I am not harming anyone by being me. I know that this disappoints you, but this _is_ me. You can force me to lie but you can’t change me.”

I feel the tears in my throat and at the back of my eyes. I fight them, though. I will not give them the satisfaction to use it as proof that I need treatment.

“This is a perfectly normal reaction,” the psychologist tells my parents. Have I ever mentioned that I hate her? “At this stage, teenagers either comply too much or fight back. They need more time to adjust and find their balance. However, we always tell the families that if the reaction is defiance, which, again, is perfectly normal, then it might be better to continue treatment in another facility. Clean slate, if you will. We can recommend other facilities in the state if you were to decide that Simon’s recovery would be better executed somewhere else.”

This is the most frightening thing she ever said. They are willing to let me go somewhere else. This isn’t about power, money or even ego. They truly believe that I need saving and they don’t care where I do it as long as I do it. To them, this truly is all about me.

How can we exist in the same world and yet live in two completely different realities?

“Could we have a moment with our son?” This was my dad. He waits until they left the room before asking me: “Are you miserable here?”

“Yes.”

“Were you happy at home?”

That is a complicated question. Can you truly be happy just before coming out? Or just after when everything went south? “Much more than here.”

“And that is the life you want for yourself.”

This is not a question of the life I want. But that is something my father will only be able to understand over time. “Yes.”

The most shocking thing happens: my father burst out crying.

“Dad?”

He stands up and pulls me into a tight hug. I don’t remember the last time my father hugged me. “I’m sorry, Simon. We really thought this was the best thing for you. We thought… We listened to the wrong people. If you want to come home, of course, we’ll go home.” He wipes his tears and looks at me. Some of my own tears might have made it out by now. “And son… it will take me time. You will have to educate me on these things, okay? And maybe… take steps… Talk to me about your boyfriend before bringing him home. Wait a while before sleepovers… Maybe… maybe ask someone else for sex ed… That kind of thing.”

“Sure!” It’s a giant step. My dad is here, massively uncomfortable with the entire thing, but he is accepting me, and he is trying. Right now, I couldn’t really ask for more.

“Let’s go home, then.” That was my mother. I almost forgot she was in the room.

 

 

 

I wake up confused. I’m pretty sure I dreamed about Salvation Camp. It’s been ten years and I still think about conversion therapy sometimes. Not that often, but a bit more, lately. Because of Leah. Her firm is handling a court case that could make such places illegal in the state.

Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened to me if my parents had decided to put me through the entire program. I also question whether I could have helped people to get out of there. Maybe I should have fought these places, like Leah did.

It is the oddest thought: the two most important people in my life come from the place I hated the most. Leah jokes that it’s because we all got PTSD together. She might have a point.

But then my eyes fall on my left ring finger. No. that’s not why. I am truly happy now. I would have chosen these people to be in my life camp or not.

I get up. I want to see my boyfriend. Nope. Force of habit. My _husband_. He is in the kitchen making breakfast.

“Good morning Lovely. I was about to come and wake you up.”

I give him a kiss before answering and he kisses me back. I know it’s cheesy, but even now, every kiss feels like the first kiss we shared. “What time is it? Have I slept that long?”

“No, but I just got a call from Nina.”

I freeze. Nina is not my friend, but she is one of the most important people in my life right now. “Oh? What did she say?”

“We made it. We are now officially foster parents. We need to book an appointment to discuss potential placements.”

I could cry right now. I have everything I ever wanted. A supportive family. Great friends. A fantastic husband. Soon a family of my own. Pretty much everything the camp promised me, only better.

I look in those deep ocean eyes and I never felt more in love. “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

 

We are lazing in front of the TV when I get a text from Leah. I shared the foster situation with her, and she is coming back to me. In a very Leah way. ‘ _I am so not jealous of your perfect life, and even if I were, I would like to remind you that your husband was with me first_.’

I chuckle and Cal shoots me an interrogative look. “It’s Leah. Reminding me about your epic love story.”

“Ah, yes… So much love and so much passion…” Cal recalls with his easy, charming smile. “Although… that might have been the most important relationship of my life.”

Cal didn’t say that as a joke, but it doesn’t hurt my feelings. I understand exactly what he means by that. Cal and Leah used each other to get out of Salvation Camp, fake-dated for almost a year. Until they fake-broke-up because Cal and I real-fell-in-love with each other.

And it’s been nine years of bliss ever since.

“Come here,” I whisper pulling Cal in for a kiss. And then a bit more than that. We’re about to get a kid. It might be our last chance to go crazy in the living room and/or during day time. Let’s make it worth it.

 

The next day, because apparently when you think about something, it just brings it back into your life, I see an article in the newspaper. Reverend Greenfeld is trying to lobby the State to stop the soon-to-be ban on conversion therapy. Things are apparently not going so well for him. I can happily truly believe that in this state, conversion therapy – at least on minors – will soon be a thing of the past and that my wonderful best friend’s law firm was a huge part of that. I have never been so proud of her.

More than the article, what catches my eyes is the picture that accompanies it. The illustration of one of their “success stories.” Bram and his gorgeous wife. Or rather, Blue and his biggest lie.

I discard the paper before leaving the subway. I don’t have time for this. Bram made his choice, I made mine. I don’t doubt for a single second who is happier right now.

 

This was the last time Simon Spier would ever think about Bram Greenfeld.

 

 

 


	40. What if they were roommates?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Garrett is moving in with his girlfriend, he needs a new roommate. Here comes Simon Spier.  
> As Jacques said, how fun could it be if the new cute roommate was gay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one did not end up being what it was in my head when I started it.  
> I'm not entirely sure it works. I hope it does.

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 09.42 AM

SUBJECT: Re: New beginnings

 

Blue,

Same here. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re not in college anymore.

I can’t believe this is it. Life is finally starting. As you said. Thrilling and terrifying all at once. Although I’m pretty sure the worst part for you would be Garrett moving out. Have you found a new roommate yet? If not, make sure he’s gay and cute. So you can at least have some fun, right?

As for the other thing… I don’t know. I think we accepted long ago that this was an online thing because we lived so far away. Because of that, we never even got rid of the aliases. I don’t know about you, but I liked the idea that I would know so much and so little about someone at the same time. So social media… I don’t know. What if we get disappointed? How disappointing if Blue ended up being a regular human being… I’m sure you would actually be fine. I think it’s me who would disappoint.

Anyway, good luck for the big interview today. Let me know how it goes. Although I have zero doubt that you will be anything but your brilliant, successful self.

Love

Jacques.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 5.27 PM

SUBJECT: Re: New beginnings

 

Jacques,

I don’t really know I feel about my current roommate moving out. I’m so excited for him that he is taking that step with his girlfriend – maybe a bit jealous too, actually. But… I’m also losing my brother in the process. I know he’s still my best friend, and we’ll still see each other all the time, but it feels like something is ending. It’s a bit of a selfish feeling, I know. But you’re the one who taught me that it’s okay to be selfish once in a while. So you would be really proud to know that I do not feel shame about my selfish thought. Almost.

I would _love_ to have a gay roommate. As long as I don’t find him attractive. Anything else would be a set up for disaster. It’s only cute and romantic in movies. In real life, that sounds like a terrible idea. A potentially confusing, messy, potentially hurtful idea.

It was just an idea I threw out there. But I get you. Social media are closer to our real selves than our online personas. Do you remember when _you_ were the one asking if we should meet?  Now I’m the pushy one. I also like that I know you so well, and I have no secret for you, but that even if we ended up in the same place, we still wouldn’t know. Actually… how great would that be? Get to know each other all over again…

Trust me, if one of us were to disappoint the other one, it wouldn’t be you. I don’t know where this blind confidence in me comes from, but I can’t deny it helps. Whenever I feel stressed or not enough, I think about you and how I need to be the person you see in me. Is that crazy? Maybe it’s a bit crazy. But it works. I got the job! It is going to be long hours and crap pay at first, but that doesn’t matter when we do what we love, right?

Love

Blue.

 

 

I barely have time to hit send before there is a knock on the door. Probably the new roommate. Nick, from the soccer team, actually found him for me. Although ‘found’ is probably the wrong word. They are childhood friends and this guy is just moving up here after finishing college. He needs a place to stay, I need a roommate, we have a friend in common… On paper, it seems like the perfect alignment of circumstances (I don’t believe in coincidences).

I open the front door and I immediately wish that this Simon Spier is not gay. Because I immediately find him extremely attractive. There is something in the way he looks, messy hair, moon-grey eyes, cute glasses, happy smile… He looks like someone who’s easy to live with. He looks like someone I’d like to kiss. He looks like someone I could fall in love with…

Okay, nope. Let’s not go there. Stupid Jacques and his stupid emails which put stupid ideas into my head.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m Simon. Are you Bram?”

“I am. Come on in! Is that all your stuff? Do you need help to bring up anything else?”

“No, thanks. Just those two suitcases. I figured I should wait until we know if we can actually peacefully cohabitate before asking my parents to send me my other boxes.”

“Fair enough.” I like that he’s a pragmatist and that he envisioned the possibility that this might not work out. It means that he is reasonable. Add that to his friendly attitude, and I think we might just make it work. “Okay. So, I know that you’ve talked to Garrett and that he likes to advertise this place as a palace, but this flat isn’t actually that big. This room is obviously the largest and as you can see it serves as a kitchen, dining room, living room… it’s pretty much the entire apartment. It’s a bit small for a real party but we can still get a few people without feeling overcrowded. It also has great light throughout the day. You’ll obviously see that. That door next to the entrance is the bathroom. No bathtub, but the shower is great. That door over here is my bedroom and directly opposite over there is yours. Come on. As you can see the two bedrooms are far enough that we have some privacy. If you listen to music, make a phone call or… _get company_ , I probably won’t hear a thing. Okay, so, here it is. It has been cleaned, but it was Garrett’s, so I’m not making any promises… Any question?”

“Hum… No. Not really. To be fair, I almost expected for you to just point at the door, blurt out ‘your room is there’ and just go.”

“Oh, sorry. Am I invading?”

“What? No!” Simon pushes his suitcases against the closet. “I can tell that you like this place. And it looks great. Nick – you know Nick, right?”

“Yes. We play soccer together.”

“Right. Well, Nick told me the place was ‘fine’, because Nick hasn’t discovered adjectives yet, but this is much better than I expected. I was a bit nervous, actually. New city, new place, new roommate. But you seem nice, the place is bigger than I thought – my entire old apartment would fit in this room. I was pretty much living in a cupboard – and I love the industrial feel with the metal beams, the brick walls, and the large windows…”

“Are you into architecture?” I ask him.

“Sort of. I’m into interior design.”

“Cool. I mean… especially if that’s your thing and you don’t think that this place is a dump.”

“Definitely not a dump!”

“I’ll let you unpack. But… I used to live with my best friend, so you might have to help me navigate the boundaries of living with a stranger. Garret and I used to have our meals together whenever we were both home. Do you want to do that or should it be every man for himself?”

“No, that sounds great! Are you more a home-cooked-meal kind of person or a takeaway guy?”

“I can do either. I don’t cook super well, though.”

“I guess we can learn together! Should we cook something tonight? Bond over our culinary failure?”

“I’d love that!” And I really would. I leave his room thinking that it will give us an opportunity to get to know each other and – because my brain is an asshole – maybe fish a bit to know if he’s gay.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 7.31 PM

SUBJECT: Roommate update

 

Jacques,

So… I hate you. (Not really. You know I couldn’t.)

I have met the new roommate. I don’t know if he’s gay, but I am dying to find out because _someone_ put that idea in my head. He is so cute. Honestly, when I opened the door, if he had told me ‘hey, wanna date?”, I probably would have said yes. But he is highly forbidden ground. Can you imagine? Dating someone is weird enough at times. Dating someone when you can’t have privacy or time away from each other sounds like hell. And if someone gets hurt, then someone ends up pretty much homeless… Therefore: my roommate is cute, I cannot date him, I hate you for putting that idea in my mind.

Love

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 22 at 7.58 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Roommate update

 

Blue,

It is more than okay to have selfish moments. I know you by now. Yours are so rare that you should even treasure them!

I’m sorry you’re ‘losing’ your best friend. I have never seen the two of you together, but from what I’ve heard, you were quite a team. Although sometimes something great can blossom from a terrifying fresh start. It’s what I hope anyway. I have left my home town for the internship I told you about (please keep guessing the type of firm, though, that’s very entertaining). I think we’re both going to be fine. Right?

Regarding your second email: I don’t care how many times you pretend you hate me: I only read the last two words of your emails anyway.

I am _very sorry_ that you have a cute roommate. Your life must be a _nightmare_. And I think you escalated the potential outcomes quite quickly. But I do get what you mean about trying to not make things complicated. Since we’re just done with college, I am in a similar situation. I have a new roommate. He is probably not gay – he sends strong alpha male vibes, although in a nice way (it would make sense if you saw him) – but he is _fine_. And by ‘fine’, I actually mean _hot_.

We’ll be fine. We are used to staying away from boys we want, aren’t we?

Love

Jacques.

 

 

Simon’s culinary skills are far superior than mine. I end up just doing what he tells me to do and we have one of the finest dinners of my entire life. Not that I will ever tell my mother that.

We decided straight away that we won’t just ask questions like ‘do you have brothers and sisters’, ‘what did you study at college’, ‘where are you from’, but that we should just have a regular chat and get to know each other this way. It’s a great idea. It’s much nicer this way. Very quickly, it feels like talking to a friend. There is something about Simon that feels almost familiar. I could get used to him. I still miss Garrett, but it doesn’t feel like a tragedy anymore.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 26 at 10.12 PM

SUBJECT: Decisions one might regret

 

Jacques,

Sorry I haven’t written in a few days. The new job had been kind of crazy. I love it though.

At least your hot roommate is straight. No temptation there. I am pretty sure that mine is gay. And by pretty sure, I mean I overheard him mentioning an ex-boyfriend when he was on the phone with… I don’t know who. I’m not a creep. I wasn’t actually eavesdropping.

That last question you wrote sort of haunts me. Even if we know it, we’ve never really said it. So I’ll do it. Rep the band-aid. The reason I didn’t want us to meet (and still don’t) is that I think it can only damage us. Either things don’t go so well and we end up disappointed, or they go great and we realize that we can’t have each other. But if life had been a bit easier, if geography hadn’t been our enemy, I would have met you, I would have made you fall in love with me, and I would have made you happy. Is that presumptuous?

Love

Blue.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Jul 26 at 11.48 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Decisions one might regret

 

Blue,

I never knew it could hurt that much to read the words you always dreamt of. Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy I read them. But there is this side of ‘doomed love’ that is just killing me. We both moved out of state. We might be in the same place now. But I will never ask that question. The probability is too low and the truth that we are simply not meant to be would destroy me.

Now that we have openly laid out our feelings, I think we should go back to digital friendship, though. For all the reasons we know too well.

Maybe we should stop talking about are cutes and hots roommates too. I know we’ll both date other people, but… maybe for a while, we don’t need to know about real-life boys?

What do you think? Another blindfold season?

Love

Jacques.

 

 

I don’t know how we came up with that term the first time. A blindfold season is a time period during which we sort of pretend we don’t know that the other one is a sexual being and we talk about anything but. Often, we decide on one of those because one of us is in a relationship but not the other and it creates a weird imbalance. They always disappear on their own after a while.

I agree on the blindfold season, and our emails got back to discussing the big topics of life rather than the little one. He doesn’t mention his hot roommate again and I don’t talk about my growing crush on forbidden Simon.

 

My job sometimes makes me go home at ridiculous hours. Lately, every time it happened, I found a plate left for me by Simon. The attention is extremely sweet and very appreciated. In exchange for all the cooking, I do the dishes. I think I get the easy job out of the two, but he looks at me like I took a bullet for him whenever I do that.

 

When I come home early, Simon and I cook together (alright, I mainly watch that part), we eat in front of a movie, and then we keep chatting as I wash the dishes. The extreme domesticity of it all doesn’t help me forget about my crush.

 

A month or so after we started our movie nights, Simon and I cry in front of the same movie. It’s not an event – or it shouldn’t be – and yet it says a lot to be able to cry with someone. To be comfortable enough to experience such a raw feeling with someone you met so recently is definitely telling something. Even if I’m not quite sure what.

 

“Bram?” Simon asks me one evening as he is drying the dishes. Which… If I do the dishes to say thank you for the cooking and then he dries the dishes to say thank you for washing them… have I even made a point? But I love the company, and I love a clean flat. In that order.

“Yeah?”

“There is something I have been meaning to ask you… but it might make things awkward.”

He sounds nervous, so I make a silly (unfunny) joke. “Is it an organ.”

“How did you know?” He bounces back immediately. “But just a kidney. You can live with one. Or part of your liver. That grows back.”

“But who’s going to clean the kitchen when I’m in the hospital?”

“Fair point. You can keep your organs. I’ll just ask Nick.”

“Good. But, seriously, just ask. It won’t make things awkward. And if it does, I’m sure we can navigate the awkwardness.”

Simon takes in a deep breath. “Are you gay?”

I nearly drop the pot I was cleaning. “What?”

“It’s just… some books you read, some movies you choose… I don’t know. I get a feeling, but you might just be open-minded.”

“I’d like to think that I’m open-minded,” I reply. “But I am also gay.” Simon doesn’t say anything for a while, so I ask: “Is it a problem?”

“No. I am too.”

“I know.”

He looks surprised, but he doesn’t ask me how I know. I’m quite grateful because I wasn’t exactly happy to tell him that I could overhear one of his conversations. No one likes to know that a private moment, however mundane, was actually not that private.

We got back to cleaning and washing the dishes, and we start another conversation.

I came out many times by now. This one was probably the most underwhelming.

 

Our dynamic changes a little bit after that half-revelation. Not much. It doesn’t get flirty or anything, it’s more… like an extra understanding. We have this extra thing in common that hides so much more. A culture, a web of experiences, a view of the world, that we share even without having to talk about it.

I also feel like Simon is a bit more himself. He isn’t exactly acting different, I think he just stopped being constantly careful about what he was saying. I hate that even when I might have been straight in his head, he thought I would judge him or just be uncool with it. It hurts a bit that he would think that of me…

 

I switch off the TV. This movie wasn’t that great. Actually, it wasn’t great at all. I mean… sure, it was watchable, and it did entertain me, but I also know I will forget all about it.

The annoying thing with a forgettable movie is that it leaves your mind a lot of room to wander. And to wonder. On the couch, sharing this blanket with Simon (because tonight is chilly and because my stupid gay brain doesn’t recognize a terrible idea when it sees it), feeling every one of his movements, feeling the heat from his body, I have pretty much spent an hour and a half trying not to think about moving ever so slightly to _accidentally_ touch him, to kiss him and see what happens.

I look at Simon to ask him if he wants to watch something else and the way he looks at me stops me halfway through opening my mouth. I can see on his face that his mind went to the same exact place. We stare in silence for a long moment.

Then Simon slowly leans toward me. I know what he’s about to do. I want it so badly that it hurts.

Five more inches and I get exactly what I want.

But relationships can end badly, and we are roommates. All the things I emailed Jacques are still true. I can’t complicate things because of a tenacious crush.

Four inches.

I can’t do this just because of his eyes gently falling on my lips.

Three inches.

I can’t do it just because I would kill to run my fingers through his hair.

Two inches.

I can’t do this just because his smell is intoxicating.

One inch.

I can’t do this. So I move back. “Simon…”

He looks like he had just been woken up by a cold shower. “Sorry, I thought… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… we’re roommates. Anything else would be…”

“Sure. You’re right.”

“Look, if we weren’t…”

“But we are. I get it. Good night Bram.”

“Simon…” But he stands up and goes to his room. I know I offended him. But I’m sure he understands it’s for the best. Besides… we live together. I have all the time in the world to make this right. To make sure that the friendship is still there.

I still feel shitty.

I don’t know if I’m more sorry for him or for me. Probably for me. He got rejected, but at least he had the balls to go for what he wanted.

 

I come home late the next day. There is some food left for me and that lifts a weight from my heart.

I come back early the following day, hoping that we can watch a movie and go back to normal. But Simon isn’t here. He left a note on the kitchen whiteboard saying that he’s out with friends but that there are some leftovers in the fridge.

 

I go to my room, feeling a bit tired – or sad, I can’t really tell – and I am a bit cheered up when I see I got an email from Jacques. The title is one we’ve used regularly before. I can open the email and see what he has to say, or send another email saying that I want to postpone this.

It might not be the wisest thing considering how I feel about the mess with Simon, but I don’t want to postpone this. I open his email.

 

 

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Sep 12 at 5.14 PM

SUBJECT: Can we take the blindfold off?

 

Blue,

I hate having to ask that. Not the fact that I should ask, the fact that I know it might still be too soon but I’m still pushing. It’s just… everything has been messy and complicated lately.

There have been a few boys around me lately (I’m smooth like that) and I didn’t think I would talk to you about any of them. But there is this one guy I realized I really like. More than the others. Any of the current and previous ones. I sort of went for it, but not really.

The thing is… I’m thinking about you all the time. It’s not healthy. I can’t lose you as a friend, but I also can’t keep you as a sort-of-online-boyfriend. I need you to tell me that we will never happen and set me free. Maybe not free to pursue that boy (that’s another complicated mess), but to move on. To try to connect to another person. For real. Not hallway because I was subconsciously saving my heart for you.

If not… we either have to decide we’re both moving to Canada (that’s neutral ground, surely) to be happy, or we end this wonderful but toxic relationship we have.

Please don’t pick the last option.

And if you pick the first one (the just friends one, not the Canada one), I have to ask if it would be okay if I talked about you to whichever boy I will truly open myself too. I feel like he should know about the other boy in my life. About everything you’ve done for me, about how incredible you are, and that you are still a part of my life.

I hope I didn’t take the blindfold off too brutally…

Love

Jacques.

 

 

This really hurts. Not that he isn’t right. We have to set each other free. I haven’t avoided my crush on Simon because we’re roommates. I have ignored it because he isn’t Jacques.

I would love to be brave enough to move to Canada with Jacques. I am not. Just like I am not strong enough to give us a clean break.

But I am not ready to close the door on us forever either and let Jacques fall in love with that guy.

I will reply to Jacques's email.

Just not tonight.

 

I don’t know what happened. This isn’t me.

I haven’t seen Simon in three days. He has been out with his friends a lot. Today when I came back from work, Simon was there with a guy I didn’t know – later introduced as _Cal Price_ – and they are on the couch, sitting very close from each other, and I can tell that this Cal guy is _so_ into Simon. It’s obvious from the way he looks at him.

And I just have been a dick to the guy – who is probably very nice. I wasn’t obviously rude, I was just… making myself present, marking my territory… I don’t know.

At some point, they got up and I was terrified that they would disappear in Simon’s room. But no. The guy left. He was nice enough to tell me that ‘it was a pleasure’ before going.

Simon comes back up and he looks very unhappy. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Yes. Sure. Ignoring the problem is just going to make it go away.

“Don’t play that game, Bram. Is it about the other night? Are you jealous?”

“What? No! Of course, not!” So… now I’m a liar too.

“Then what? Do we have a new ‘no guest’ rule? Because it doesn’t seem to apply to Nick, Abby or Garrett. The only difference is that…”

“I’m not jealous, Simon. I’m tired. I had a long week at work and I’m exhausted. I’m sorry if that is not convenient for your social life.” There we go. I’m a thirteen-year-old brat.

 

 

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Sep 16 at 9.41 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Can we take the blindfold off?

 

Jacques,

Canada is too cold for me. I would love to say ‘maybe one day’, but that wouldn’t be fair. You’re right. We have to set each other free. I don’t know if it’s wiser to just say ‘never’ and hope that this will be enough for us to remain friends, or to just transform this correspondence into a memory. I’ll let you choose what gives you the best chance at moving on.

I understand where you are coming from, though. I have been confused lately too. I think I’m falling for my ‘cute roommate’. I have been trying to bury these feelings because of the possibility of you. A possibility that doesn’t even truly exist.

Almost a week ago, I could have kissed him (or let him kiss me) and I didn’t. Because of the possibility of you.

And then tonight, he was here with a guy and I turned into a self-centered bitch roommate, totally cockblocking him because I was so jealous.

So here is what I’ll do. I will let you move on. I will let Simon – that’s his name – move on. And maybe then I’ll be able to move on too.

I hope we can stay friends. But if this is it, thank you for everything you’ve done for me all these years. It truly was more than you think.

And about your last question, I can’t really deny you that, but… I would like for you to save our story in some hidden place in your heart and to only take it out when you’re really in love. Then, by all means, take it out and let another person in the secret.

I hope that sounds reasonable.

Love

Blue.

 

 

Simon comes back to the living room and I mute the TV. “Simon, listen, I’m sorry for…”

“I didn’t want to see it,” he interrupts me.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.” Unless… is he talking about my crush on him? He looks a bit upset. I think that maybe this is it. He is going to tell me that this isn’t working and that I should find another roommate.

“There have been so many signs, but I tried not to read anything into it. Because I don’t believe in coincidences. And do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t. You told me that once and since then, I haven’t either. By then I already knew that you were the wisest one and I have regularly started to look at the world the way you do. I don’t know if it’s because you’re smart or literate, or mixed-faith… I just constantly have this feeling that you understand the world at a deeper level. I know it’s stupid.” I’m not quite sure when we talked about coincidences or religion, but… then it hits me. It’s not just a figure of speech. As soon as I understand what Simon is really saying, the realization hits me so hard that I feel like someone just punched me in the chest, knocking all the air out of me. “But at some point, it’s not just coincidences. At some point, it’s proof. Things look, sound and feel the same because they _are_ the same.”

“Simon…”

“I didn’t care.”

“About what?”

“Earlier, I didn’t care that you weren’t jealous. I didn’t get why you were so upset if you weren’t, but I wasn’t upset that you didn’t have a crush on me. I never care. I live in a world in which I can’t have the boy I want anyway, so why would I care if someone who’s not even the one doesn’t crush on me back? It stings but it never hurts. Now, though…”

“I was jealous,” I interrupt him.

“I know.” Right. Of course. The email. “It made me realize that I did still care more than I should that Bram Greenfeld didn’t have a crush on me. And it made me understand how much I needed Blue to like Simon too, not just Jacques.”

There is something in his eyes. Like clouds in front of the moon. I think that for some obscure reason, he is still uncertain about how I feel. About either of them.

“You know I am into Jacques. You know that signing ‘Love’ at the end of our emails wasn’t just a social convention, but the acknowledgment that we would have felt that way in another life. A life in which we would have been fortunate enough to at least live in the same state. And then there was Simon… Of course, I was jealous! We get along so well! And… you move me. You make me feel every single feeling. We laughed, cried and got scared together. The other night… it took me everything I had not to kiss you after the movie. I felt like an idiot when you came back with that other guy. I could see a future where Jacques would email me about that boy he liked and Simon would date – probably that same guy, actually. I was losing both boys, and I didn’t know how to react in a mature fashion. I just wasn’t ready for you to go to your room, close the door, and for me to go crazy thinking about what was going on behind…”

“You really are stupid.”

“I know. It’s like I couldn’t decide what I truly wanted.”

“Not that, you idiot. You think that guy I have been talking to Blue about is _Cal_?”

I am not stupid enough to even wonder what he means by that. Whenever I have a moment, I am going to reread that email. Actually, I am going to reread all of the emails. As soon as I am done truly processing that _Simon_ sent me those emails.

I really want to kiss him. I simply don’t know how to close the distance between us. Do I just stand up and walk to him? Do I just ignore the feeling for now and act on it later, when it’s more organic? Do I…

I nothing. Simon does. I don’t even have time to stand up that he is already in front of me, leaning forward, and each side of me on the backrest, keeping him stable. He isn’t kissing me, he is looking at me. No more clouds in front of the moon. I can tell that he is desperate to close the gap but that he doesn’t want to do it until I’m ready. How ridiculous! I have been ready for years.

I gently pull on his neck and I get the kiss I never thought I would. It starts off gentle, sweet and how I often dreamt it would be. But soon, I pull Simon closer and he ends up on my lap, pressed against me. The kiss gets heated, deep and how I often dreamt it would be.

“What now?” I ask Simon when we stop kissing and stare at each other with goofy smiles instead.

“Now I move into your room and we turn the empty room into a nursery.” _What?_ My surprise is probably visible on my face because Simon bursts out laughing. “I don’t know… now we get happy?”

“Isn’t it weird that we already live together?”

Simon shrugs. “Probably. But at this point… what have we done like other people?” He has a very valid point.

“Do you think this might turn into a mess?”

“Maybe. I am willing to risk it. Are you?” He asks me. This is it. My chance to walk away from this. As if I could.

“Absolutely!” I pull Simon into another kiss and it is quickly feeling out of hand. “Wait… Simon… should we take this slow?”

“Sure,” he answers between kisses. “We should get to know each other a bit first. See if maybe this could be a relationship rather than a cheap hook-up. We should definitely wait until date three…” I have to admire the skills with which he kisses and talks at the same time.

“Are you always going to make fun of me like that?”

“No. No… Just when you ask stupid questions.” He stops the kissing for a moment and adds: “I’m just kidding, though. We can definitely take a break. This isn’t the romantic first kiss Blue deserves.”

“Blue is very happy about that specific kiss,” I assure him.

But Simon doesn’t kiss me again. He stares at me for a long moment before saying: “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m _so happy_ it’s you.”

“Same here. Do you remember that email? The one telling me that we should hope I get a gay roommate? Guess what? That came true.”

“Lucky you!”

“Indeed!” I kiss him again. His lips start traveling, my hands start exploring… “So… Simon… your place or mine?” I don’t know if we’re about to have sex, but we’re definitely about to do _something_.

“I think we should stay in neutral ground,” Simon answers with a cheeky tone. Fine. The couch it is.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [With You I'm Feeling Something](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18587821) by [Lesbianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesbianna/pseuds/Lesbianna)
  * [You're Way Out There Trying To Dance Out Those Blues](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636106) by [Lesbianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesbianna/pseuds/Lesbianna)




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